


Sweet Torture

by Butterynutjob



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: 50 Shades of Grey - Freeform, Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Sex, BDSM, Breathplay, Bukkake, Butt Plugs, CReepy Android kink, Cock Rings, Crying, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dissociation, Dom!Erik, Double Anal Penetration, Dubious Consent, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Extremely Dubious Consent, Facials, First Kiss, Flogging, Gags, Group Sex, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Japanese Rope Bondage, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pictures, Porn With Plot, Protective Erik, Psychological Trauma, Public Humiliation, Riding Crops, Rimming, S&M, Self-Harm, Shaw Being a Manipulative Bastard, Shaw gets what he deserves, Shibari, Smut, Spanking, Sub!Charles, Suspension Bondage, Tantra, Verbal Humiliation, Wax Play, pissing, semen play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 92,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles has always fantasized about bondage and being a submissive. When he sees an ad for "Professional Dom, Master Erik" he can't resist making an appointment. It's too bad Erik does not allow himself to date his clients...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Master Erik

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Sweet Torture 甜蜜的折磨](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131226) by [Aria_cc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_cc/pseuds/Aria_cc), [Butterynutjob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob)



> I wrote this because I wanted to show the difference between good BDSM and bad BDSM (aka 50 Shades of Gray). Erik is a good dom, and everything between him and Charles is 100% consensual. Starting around Chapter 6 some material may not be comfortable for all readers - please check tags and the warnings at beginnings of Chapters carefully. If there's any tags or warning you think I should add, please let me know - you can comment here or [message me on tumblr.](http://butterynutjob.tumblr.com/ask)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh the first link is NSFW!

Charles had been thinking about this for months--jerking off to the idea, in fact--yet when he finally arrived for his appointment his hands were so sweaty he could barely hold the pen. 

Because the first thing he’d been asked to do upon arriving at Master Erik Lehnsherr's place of business (did he call it an office? a studio? It was far too posh to be a dungeon) was fill out a form. As if he was at the hospital, or at a doctor’s appointment. 

Of course, Charles had never been in a doctor’s office where the waiting room had black leather couches and dark burgundy walls which [featured black-and white pictures of people beautifully tied up with ropes.](https://www.google.com/search?q=shibari&espv=2&biw=1484&bih=908&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=YsgEVbCQIYzwoATbioFo&ved=0CAYQ_AUoAQ#q=shibari&tbm=isch&tbs=ic:gray) He'd never been to a hospital where the triage nurse was a gorgeous blonde woman wearing a black PVC corset. Nevertheless, the woman who greeted him had been so coolly polite and professional that he thought perhaps he was in the wrong place despite all the evidence to the contrary...until he read [the form.](https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B72HcDs7MmtcNHRaOVRlcUhTamlUaDRtb2U2djdfQQ/edit)

It was essentially a consent form. The questions on the form were generally very broad but Charles was nothing if not thorough, so he found himself trying to write very small as he indicated the things that turned him on. _Being tied up with soft ropes, being gagged, wearing a collar, spanking, flogging, dirty talk (but not verbal humiliation, probably, actually maybe we should come back round to that later), feeling out of control..._ Even though his was hand starting to cramp up, Charles had an erection already.

Although there was a certain excitement in writing down all his kinks, Charles frowned a bit, chewing on the pen, as it occurred to him that it would be more fun and perhaps easier to express himself directly to Master Erik. The primary reason he was here, in fact, was because of an online ad featuring the sexiest man Charles had ever seen next to the text [“Professional Dom, Master Erik”](https://40.media.tumblr.com/d43a51941f4b58561a5af2659e2785e1/tumblr_nl8gk68m1y1sb6kg7o1_1280.jpg). The ad showed a breathtakingly attractive man just looking at the camera, almost casually. Unlike most of the other Dom or Dominatrix adverts, he wasn’t wearing leather or bondage gear of any kind, but the look in his eyes was absolutely captivating. The picture was black and white, but Charles could tell from it that his eyes were either blue or green, or possibly grey...and he couldn’t wait to see which it was.

In actuality though, the _primary_ reason was probably more because Charles craved a way to enact his fantasies about kinks that he hadn't been able successfully enact with any of his previous partners. However, Master Erik's physical appearance was high on the list of reasons. Charles had saved a screenshot of the advert and masturbated to the picture for a month before he had dared to call and make an appointment.

Charles decided the form was filled out as completely as it could be and he brought it back to the receptionist. “You can keep the pen,” she said, eying the obviously-chewed writing utensil in his hand. "Master Erik will be with you momentarily." Charles flushed with embarrassment as he sat down again. She left the room for a few minutes.

“Charles Xavier?”

Charles head snapped up as suddenly there he was, the man from the advert. He looked even more gorgeous in person, wearing [black leather pants with laces down the sides](http://i01.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v0/1949484019_1/2014-Nightclub-font-b-man-b-font-font-b-Leather-b-font-font-b-pants-b.jpg) and a dark blue mesh top. Thick metal bands circled each wrist. In person, his hair shone a rich, dark auburn whereas it had only looked brown in the picture. 

The man fixed him with an intense gaze when he did not respond. “Are you Charles Xavier?”

Of course he was; he was the only person in the waiting room. Charles realized he had been sitting there gaping at the man. “Yes!” he squealed at a much higher pitch than was dignified as he surged to his feet. “Er, sorry, I, um, I just--sorry.” He took a few hesitant steps towards the man. Was he supposed to kneel now? What was the protocol for this?

Erik extended a hand and gave him a light smile. “I’m Erik. Master Erik, if you prefer. Would you like to come with me?”

“Nice to meet you,” Charles practically whispered as he accepted and shook the man’s hand. His handshake was firm and his hands were cool and dry. Charles nodded and walked in the direction the man indicated. Erik put a hand almost casually on Charles’ neck as he led the shorter man down the hall, a hand which slipped down to the small of Charles’ back as they walked. Charles felt a delighted shiver at the touch. 

He guided Charles to a room with the same burgundy walls as the waiting room (sans the bondage pictures) that had a four-poster bed in it covered with dark purple bedding. The floor was rubber or rubberized, and there appeared to be an open-air shower in the corner of the room. There was also a large dark gray freestanding cabinet against one wall; a huge solid-looking piece of furniture, almost big enough to be a wardrobe. The lighting was dim but warm, and it took Charles a moment to realize where it was coming from: there were strip lights in subtle locations around the room, so the light was diffuse but still present. There were no windows.

The overall effect was incredibly arousing to Charles, but it also made him nervous as hell. “This room is lovely,” he managed to say, as Erik guided him to a small sitting area just behind the door to the room that had two loveseat-sized couches facing each other with a small coffee table between them. 

Erik’s lip quirked in what Charles thought might be amusement. “Thank you.” His hand slid up to Charles’ shoulder, and with a subtle pressure he indicated Charles should sit. 

Charles sat, and Erik sat down across from him and picked up some papers that were sitting on the coffee table. Charles realized immediately that one of them was the form Charles had filled out just a few minutes ago. 

“Is this your first time visiting a professional Dom?” Erik asked. 

Charles nodded. 

Erik glanced up at him. “Would you please respond verbally?”

“Oh! Sorry. No, I’ve not--I mean, this is my first time--with a pro, I mean. I tried with a couple boyfriends but it never really…” Charles realized he was babbling. “Sorry. I’m just--really nervous,” Charles said. 

“That’s perfectly normal,” Erik assured him, although in fact in Erik’s experience it was just as normal not to be nervous. “How would you like to be addressed?”

“Um, Charles?”

Erik nodded. “Should that change in the context of a scene?”

“Um.” Charles had been blushing already, but now he blushed even deeper, and he mumbled his response. “I like to be called a good boy. Or a bad boy, as appropriate...is that okay?”

Erik didn’t give his approval right away, instead watching how Charles watched him. Charles was anxious for Erik to respond...approval seemed to be part of Charles’ kink...perhaps making that approval hard-won was arousing for the young man. “I will call you a good boy _if_ you’ve been good,” he finally said, softly. 

Charles’ lips parted a little in surprise and his breath caught in surprise as his pupils dilated a millimeter. 

Erik smiled slightly and looked back down at the form. He was careful not to let his face show his surprise at exactly how much was written on the form - Charles might take that as judgement, and Erik didn’t shame people for what they liked unless, of course, that was something they wanted. Charles, however, seemed to be very sensitive.

“How long were you planning on being here today?” Erik asked carefully. 

Charles blinked gorgeous blue eyes at him. “The normal length of time? An hour, ninety minutes?”

“We won’t have time to do everything you’ve indicated on here in that time,” Erik said. “At least, not to do it right.” He let his lips curl into a sexy smile. 

“Oh, I thought--Oh. So you mean--the purpose of the form is just to know what I want--today?”

“Yes,” Erik said. “If you visit me again, you will fill out a new form each visit. Sometimes people’s tastes...change.”

“Oh,” Charles said again. He took the form back and circled the few things he definitely wanted that day and handed it back to Erik, his cheeks burning. 

Erik looked over his changes dispassionately. “Thank you. And what would you _not_ like today?”

Charles exhaled. “No blood or breaking the skin, no bruises visible--I mean, if I’m dressed, if they are under the clothes thats fine...no blindfolds, I mean, maybe eventually but not today, no, um, mean names, verbal humiliation? Again, I may change my mind about that, but today…” Charles drifted off. 

When Erik was sure that Charles was done, Erik spoke. “I understand, Charles. Thank you. So that you understand my limits, I will not have sex with you or penetrate you. That includes any definition of sex, and it includes penetration of your mouth or anus, and includes penetration by any foreign object. Do you understand?” Prostitution was illegal in the state of New York, and Erik was careful to make it clear to new clients that it was important to him stay on the right side of the law.

Charles bit his lip and frowned a little bit. “It said on your website that you do not have sex with your clients, so I wasn’t expecting that, but honestly I’m a little disappointed that you won’t penetrate even my mouth with an object. Wouldn't that preclude using a gag?"

An honest, understandable, and typical response, although put more eloquently than Erik had ever heard it. It showed that the young man in front of him had a little more to him than Erik’s initial assessment indicated. “Remember, we're just talking about today,” he said softly. “There are some, well, loopholes, we can discuss if you choose to return.” Erik hoped Charles would return - he already looked at Erik with the kind of [worshipful gaze](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/e6/a1/1f/e6a11fc8352fda608c861a5e1d3d56b4.jpg) that any Dom wanted to bottle and keep in a jar. 

Charles did look encouraged by Erik's response. He smiled. "Alright."

“Do you know what a safeword is?” Erik asked next.

Charles looked almost offended. “Of course.”

“Do you have a favorite, or would you like to use mine? That would be ‘red’ for full stop and ‘yellow’ for a pause.”

“Yours are fine,” Charles said. He seemed to have gotten past most of his nervousness and he was definitely aroused; his tongue kept [licking his lips](http://media.tumblr.com/b4a9b4f2cda03d58246e344181dcba69/tumblr_inline_nboufu66st1sdo9oy.gif) every few seconds and it was a little distracting for Erik. 

Erik wasn’t used to being distracted. “Today will be about us getting to know each other,” He said. “I see that you’ve indicated you want to be gagged, but as you so astutely noted that goes against my first-visit rules. However, I have a workaround we can get to later. I suggest we scene a little first. I suggest doing a ninety minute scene today, in fact, so we have plenty of time to get to know each other."

Charles nodded, then belatedly responded aloud when he remembered that Erik didn't like non-verbal responses. “I understand about the gag. Ninety minutes is good.”

“Do you have any other questions for me, or is there anything else you would like to tell me before we begin?”

Charles had to think about that for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admitted. "Probably, but I can't think of anything."

For the first time, he got a genuine smile out of the professional Dom. This Charles was so adorably literal. “You can always use your safeword to stop if you think of something.”

“Right! Um. Then yes, I’m ready.”

Erik licked his lips. He was very much looking forward to this client. He stood up. “Go stand next to the bed.”

Charles blinked at him and his eyes widened as he realized that was an order. He stood up and walked over to the bed. 

“Take your clothes off,” Erik commanded softly. 

Charles did, starting with his shoes and socks, then his sweater vest and the button-down shirt under it. Next his khakis, until all he was wearing was a pair of powder blue boxer briefs. They were very clingy and didn’t leave much to the imagination. Charles looked at Erik as if for guidance on whether or not to remove them, but Erik just gazed back steadily. This was Charles’ choice. 

Charles swallowed and took off the underwear so that he was completely naked. 

Erik stood looking at him for a moment. Charles’ face was flushed red and his fingers were fidgety, but he also had a very obvious erection. 

“Good boy,” Erik said softly, and watched a shiver of pleasure cross Charles’ body. 

“Get on your knees, facing the bed,” Erik said. That meant he would be facing away from the toy cabinet. “I’m going to tie you up and then flog you, Charles. Do you like the sound of that?”

“Yes, very much. But, um...sir?”

“Yes, Charles?”

“What--what should I call you?”

Erik paused. He didn’t care what Charles called him; this was about Charles. He would be fine with whatever Charles wanted to call him; he’d been called everything from “My Lord and Master” to “Daddy.” 

But Charles also wanted to be dominated, which meant he wanted to illusion that Erik was in control...even though, actually, Charles was the one in control. 

When Erik didn’t respond for a moment, Charles asked hesitantly, “What do your other clients call you?”

“I don’t want you to think about my other clients,” Erik responded. “I am certainly not thinking of anyone else besides you while you are here.” It was a line he had used before, but he was finding it was particularly true with this young man in front of him.

“You may address me as ‘Sir’,” Erik finally said, taking a cue from Charles himself. He approached Charles from behind and carded his long fingers into Charles’ hair before he slowly tightened his grip - not enough to hurt, but enough to make Charles feel that Erik could control how his head moved. He moved his mouth close to Charles’ ear. “If you are a very good boy,” he murmured in a voice so low, it was barely more than a whisper, “I may let you call me Erik.”

Charles inhaled and nodded, just enough that he pulled against Erik’s grip in his hair. 

Erik got his softest shibari ropes out of the cabinet and began wrapping Charles’ ankles behind in a cris-cross pattern. 

“May I...make a--request, Sir?”

Erik paused. “You may.”

“I want to...see you. While you do--whatever you are doing.”

Interesting. It was not a request he got frequently, although he knew many of his clients found him attractive; hell, that’s why most, if not all of them, came to him. But being blindfolded was one of the most common requests he got, he suspected because relinquishing sight is one way to give up control. And, one was freer to focus on physical sensations without the distraction of sight.

Erik thought Charles had declined to be blindfolded today because of trust issues--completely understandable, and it didn't even occur to Erik to be offended, especially from a new client. It just didn't completely line-up with Charles' body language, which said that he did trust Erik. 

No matter. He was the client, he got what he wanted, as long as it was legal and reasonable. Erik started to untie his ankles. 

Charles stiffened immediately. "You’re un...--did I--" he swallowed. "Should I not have..."

"I'm going to tie you up in a different position," Erik said softly, annoyed at himself. He should have said that the moment he started to untie Charles. "One that lets you see exactly what I'm doing to you."

"Oh. Alright. Thank you...sir."

Erik finished untying his ankles. "Stand up." 

Charles did. Erik took a moment to frankly admire his compact body, even walking around Charles to see him from all angles. He had muscular, well-defined legs and thick thighs leading up to a lush, rounded ass. He had just enough body hair for Erik's taste, and mostly below the waist. He had surprisingly broad shoulders for his frame, and his skin was mostly pale except for the smattering of freckles on his shoulders. 

Erik had the most bizarre urge to kiss every one of those freckles. 

The last thing he admired was Charles' cock, which was still mostly erect, jutting forth out of auburn pubic hair that had been recently trimmed. It was larger than average and he appeared to be uncircumcised. Erik liked that; he liked everything about the way Charles looked, actually, including his slightly short stature. Erik raised his eyes to meet Charles'. "You're beautiful," he said simply. 

Charles looked surprised at the compliment. He blinked a few times and the red blush came back to his cheeks, as if it had never gone far. "Thank you, sir," he said quietly. 

Erik kept eye contact with him for a few more moments. "Stand still, I'm getting something for you," he told Charles as he walked towards his toy cabinet. The thing he was looking for was too big to fit in the cabinet, so he kept it stashed behind it. 

Erik snuck a peek at Charles' face as he wheeled out the large rack. Charles' eyes got big, but there was as much anticipation as trepidation. Good. Erik rolled the large rack into position and locked the wheels. "Come here and stand in the middle."

Charles did so, breathing shallowly. The rack was a sturdy, welded metal frame about seven feet tall and about five feet wide. The bottom was two parallel metal struts a few inches off the floor (elevated by the locked wheels) so a person could stand in the middle of them and be directly under the upper railing.

"Spread your legs," Erik commanded, then added, "Just a bit," when a brief expression of alarm crossed Charles' face. 

Charles obediently widened his stance. That made him a little shorter, which was unfortunate, because now his arms looked like they wouldn't quite reach the top rail at the angle Erik was hoping for. Which meant he had to ask Charles a question. 

He stroked a hand down the side of Charles' face and under his chin. "Do you want your arms to feel taut, or just secured?"

Charles started into his eyes, his lips parted. They were ridiculously red lips, and if Erik hadn't been at work...

"Taut. Stretched," Charles whispered, still staring into Erik's eyes. 

Reluctantly breaking eye contact with Charles, Erik grasped one of the other man's wrists and wound one of his ropes around it and Charles’ hand with the ease of long practice. He knotted it in several places then pressed the the rest of the rope into Charles' hand. "Hold this until I'm ready for it again."

Erik took Charles' other wrist and bound it similarly when Charles said, sounding more curious than anything else, "What if I dropped the rope after you asked me to hold it?"

"I'd do what I do to bad boys," Erik said. He let his facial expression become a little less pleasant. "I'd punish you."

Charles swallowed, but Erik could tell he was more aroused than scared. 

Erik took the leftover rope from out of Charles' hands and tossed them over the upper metal bar. He pulled the ropes over the rail until Charles' arms were pulled up over his head and then he kept pulling until Charles' breathing changed--then he let it slide back about a half inch. He walked behind Charles and wrapped the last bit of both ropes around Charles' wrists together and then tied them. 

He walked back around to Charles' front. "Comfortable?" he inquired. 

Charles' arms were next to but not quite pressed up against the sides of his face. His pupils were blown wide and his lips look well-chewed. "Yes," he said breathily. 

Erik smiled and couldn't resist stroking down Charles' torso a few times, letting his hands "accidentally" brush Charles' nipples. "You're being a very good boy," he murmured. "I'm glad you didn't drop those ropes. But..." he walked around Charles' back again, and spoke from about an inch directly behind Charles' ear. "I am going to flog you anyway."

Charles' breathing got heavier. 

Erik moved to Charles' front again and knelt down to tie each of Charles ankles into position. He managed to "accidentally" brush Charles' turgid cock a few times as he did so, earning him a barely concealed moan each time. 

Erik usually didn't take the risk of any genital contact with new clients, but Charles seemed...trustworthy. 

Finally he was secure. Erik ran his hands up and down Charles' torso and back, tapping his fingers lightly on Charles' hips and that pert ass. "Now is a good time to ask, if you need anything, Charles."

"I need you to flog me," Charles said, his voice slightly strained. Belatedly he added, "Sir."

"Getting a bit of an attitude, are we?" Erik said lightly. Standing in front of the other man, he wrapped his right hand around to the back of Charles’ neck and carded his fingers in Charles hair and tightened, much as he had earlier. "Tsk, tsk. Trying to rush things. We have ninety minutes, you naughty boy. And I'm not done tying you up yet."

A look of surprise and naked lust crossed Charles' face. Erik turned his face away so Charles wouldn't see him smirk. He got out of one his longest lengths of rope and knelt so his face was inches away from Charles erect cock. Carefully, and without touching his actual penis, Erik looped a piece of the soft rope around Charles' cock and then pulled that rope around around the back of Charles' body, only to loop it around his cock from the other side as well. Charles was trying to hold absolutely still, but he was trembling and whimpering and swearing under his breath. Erik listened with half an ear for anything resembling a safeword while he worked, alternating sides and relying on Charles erect penis to keep the ropes in place. He looped and wrapped until Charles' cock was nearly completely encased in the rope, and thus nearly double its original circumference. It was also being held firmly against his belly by the many times Erik had wrapped it around Charles' body. In back, the ropes were all either right under or right above Charles' ass - because of course Erik had to leave that rounded, adorable ass accessible for flogging. 

Erik dragged his fingernails up the ropes wrapped around Charles' penis. The trussed-up man moaned without shame, nearly incoherent with arousal. His eyes were closed now. Erik couldn't help feeling pleased at how well the scene was going.

"This situation will become very uncomfortable very soon if you lose your erection," Erik thought it was prudent to warn Charles. 

"I don't think that will be a problem," Charles gasped. 

Erik smiled. "Good boy," he said, giving the outside of the ropes around Charles' cock another scratch with his fingernails and enjoying Charles' resulting broken moan before he went to his toy cabinet and retrieved what he felt was an appropriate [flogger](http://www.efleathercraft.com/FLELK-1211.jpg). It was a personal favorite, and the straps were suede on one side, so it was good for a beginner whose pain tolerances and thresholds he didn't know yet. 

"I'm going to flog you now," Erik said. Charles' eyes snapped open and he regarded Erik with a small bit of fear, even though this is what he had asked for just a few minutes before. Erik waited for a safeword but none came, so he continued. "As I said to you earlier, today is about us getting to know each other. The first couple of strikes will not be painful at all. Each time I whip you, I want you to tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how much it hurts. 'One' should mean you barely felt it. 'Nine' should be just beyond what what you can find pleasurable, and 'Ten' should mean too painful to be pleasurable." Erik paused, seeing Charles swallow yet again. "I don't intend to hit you with any nines or tens, but I need to know if I do. Do you understand?"

Charles nodded. 

"Do you understand?" Erik repeated, a little more sharply. Charles had forgotten to vocalize again.

"Oh! Sorry. Yes, I, um, understand, sir."

"See that it doesn't happen again." Erik wasn't genuinely upset, of course, but Charles did need to learn to communicate verbally in scenes like these. 

Erik continued. "I'm planning on striking you on your front, since you said you wanted to see me. There is a risk I will strike your cock, although I believe I have mitigated that by the rope I have wrapped around it - that should act as a protective barrier. However, would you prefer that I flog your back instead?"

Charles shook his head. His eyes were open but glazed with arousal. "I'll take the risk. Flog my front. I want to see you. In fact," Charles licked his lips. "Will you take your shirt off?"

Erik raised an eyebrow and smiled indulgently. "If you are a good boy and do very well in rating the pain each time I strike you, I will take my shirt off."

Charles shivered. "Thank you," he breathed. 

Erik hit his opposite hand with the flogger a few times, watching Charles who seemed far more aroused than scared. Then, telegraphing the movement so it wouldn't catch Charles by surprise, he swung the flog against Charles' stomach with barely enough force to lift the leather straps. 

Charles wiggled. "That tickled," he said.

Tickling was not good, at least in this case; tickling led to lost erections. Erik swung quite a bit harder and heard Charles gasp in surprise. "That - didn't tickle," Charles said breathlessly. 

"I didn't ask you for an oral essay," Erik said in a stern voice. "I asked you to rate the strikes on a scale from one to ten. Can you do that, or not?"

Charles looked properly chastised. "Oh. Right. Sorry...sir. The first--strike was a ‘one’, and the second was, hmm, a five?"

"Good," Erik murmured. He flogged Charles again, a little bit harder. 

"Seven," Charles said in a whisper. His cock was still clearly erect. 

Erik had been aiming for a six. He struck again, with a little less force. 

"Three," Charles said, in a relatively even voice. "Sir--I've reconsidered the blindfold--is it too late for that?" 

Erik had been expecting something like this. Charles wanted to feel out of control, after all. "Actually, it is too late," Erik said. Charles had signed a consent form that had clearly stated that he was not going to be blindfolded today. "However, I can order you to close your eyes, and only a very bad boy would peek after being given that order." Erik brought the handle of the flogger up and used it to lift Charles' chin. "And you're not a bad boy, are you?"

Charles' ridiculously pretty blue eyes locked with his. "No," he breathed. 

Erik changed his tone. "Close your eyes, and don't open them until I tell you to do so."

Charles obediently closed his eyes. Erik took a moment to check his handiwork. Cock still erect and holding the ropes around his hips in place, check; torso slightly reddened from the flogging but no actual bruises, check; trembling red lips that wanted Erik's cock between them...

Erik shook his head to rid his mind of that thought. Inappropriate. He was a professional with a job to do. Erik flogged his own hand a few more times to see Charles startle and strain at his bindings while he licked his poor already-chapped lips even redder. Then he swung at Charles' torso what he expected to be a six or seven.

"Four," Charles said shakily.

With greater arousal comes a higher pain threshold. Erik swung a little harder. 

"Six," Charles gasped. His hips were moving, although he was probably only able to get a very small amount of friction from the ropes.

Erik swung a little bit harder. 

"Seven," Charles cried out, his eyes squeezed shut, his hips thrusting almost spasmodically, moving and searching for contact that wasn't there.

God, he was beautiful. 

"You've been a very good boy, Charles," Erik said, his own voice thick with arousal. Occupational hazard, especially with clients like Charles. "You've been such a good boy that I'm going to take my shirt off...what a pity that I've also ordered you to keep your eyes shut."

Erik grinned as Charles' jaw dropped in shocked disappointment--. "But--" But his eyes stayed closed. 

Erik stood very close to Charles, so close they were almost touching, and took his shirt off. He made sure the fabric dragged against Charles so he knew that Erik was doing what he said he would--probably Charles could also smell him on his shirt. "Now then," he murmured, still so close to Charles that his breath brushed the other man's cheek, "I'm going to give you three sevens in a row, and then an eight. You don't have to rate them anymore, but after each strike, I want you to thank me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Charles gasped. "I want that. But...also...I want...what happens if I look at you?"

"Then you don't get to come," Erik said coolly. "Only good boys get to come."

Charles shuddered in what was close to ecstasy. "But--coming? I thought that was against your...rules..."

"You will have to do the honors yourself," Erik said, stroking Charles' torso and hips and enjoying the fact that gooseflesh arose where he touched. "But I can touch you, or hold you, or watch you. Would you like that, Charles?" His lips were touching Charles' face as he said that, high on Charles' cheek near his ear. 

"Yes, sir," Charles said. He was trembling with anticipation.

Erik pressed a kiss to his cheek and then stepped back and counted down to his first strike. "Three, two, _one_!" The flog landed on one. Charles gasped, writhing to the extent he was able in his bonds. 

"What do you say, Charles?" Erik asked patiently. 

"Thank you," Charles said, his voice shaking.

Erik repeated the strike from the opposite side the exact same way, counting it down first. 

"Thank you, sir," Charles said, the words coming out almost as a sob. 

Erik hoped he wasn't pushing this too far - Charles hadn't said anything about crying, and Erik didn't think he was going to safeword, but he had had an erection for long enough now that it had to be getting uncomfortable. 

Erik walked around to Charles back for the last two strikes. "I'm going to strike your perfect little ass, two times in quick succession," He said, and before Charles could respond, he did so, controlling the force so it should be two sixes instead of the seven and eight he had promised Charles. 

"Uunnggh, thankyouthankyou," Charles moaned, then gasped, "Please, I can't, anymore..."

Right on time. Erik pulled on the loose ends he'd left where Charles' arms were tied up and caught Charles' wrists as they suddenly fell and gently lowered them. "Shake your hands, and the ropes will fall," he said softly to Charles. Then he tugged the loose rope ends at Charles' hips out of their slipknot and put a hand carefully around the ropes surrounding Charles' (still quite erect) cock. He put his other hand behind Charles' back and lifted all the ropes together, as carefully as he could manage, trying not to scrape Charles' cock. Once each loop of rope cleared the top of Charles' penis, the ropes all tumbled harmlessly down, as his cock had been acting as a lynchpin. 

Charles seemed to be having some trouble staying upright, so Erik put Charles' hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to quickly release Charles' ankles from bondage. 

It had taken about twenty minutes to tie Charles up, but due to Erik's conscientious approach to bondage and experience with quick-release knots, it took him about 30 seconds to untie Charles completely. 

Erik helped Charles step out from between the parallel bottom rails of his rack, standing slightly behind Charles, his right hand on Charles' right hip and his left hand holding Charles' outstretched left hand. 

"I suggest," Erik said into the back of Charles' ear, "That you kneel and take your cock in hand. I will kneel behind you and touch you. Does that sound good to you?"

"God, yes," Charles gasped. Erik helped him kneel - he was still a little shaky - and then Erik knelt behind him, with his right knee in between Charles' legs. 

Erik reached into the pocket of his pants. "I have lube, if you'd like some."

"Yes, thank you, sir," Charles said, his voice dreamy. Erik drizzled it on Charles' quite red and veiny cock. His cock bore indentations from the rope, but those would go away within a matter of minutes. 

Charles gripped his cock with his right hand and started stroking. His head rolled back so it was on Erik's right shoulder, and Erik reached under Charles right arm and around his side to stroke his chest. He rubbed his thumb across both nipples, one at a time, and at Charles' encouraging response he squeezed and tugged on each nipple a bit - not enough to be truly painful. 

"I'm close," Charles gasped. He leaned his head forward and as his hand started moving faster. 

Erik ran the fingers of his left hand through Charles' hair and tightened his grasp, much as he had done earlier. He moved Charles' head a little just to demonstrate that he could, and Charles let him, moaning his approval. But he hadn't come just yet. 

Erik put his lips against Charles' ear. "You were so good today, Charles, such a good boy," he breathed softly and that did it; Charles yelled as he came, arching his back and bringing himself into the contact with Erik's bare chest. 

"Lovely, Charles. You are a work of art," Erik murmured, letting go of Charles' hair but continuing to stroke Charles' chest soothingly. Charles probably felt Erik's cock, right next Charles' ass, hard inside Erik's leather pants. Erik himself ignored his own erection. He would deal with that later. 

He kissed Charles on the shoulder then, on one of his thousands on freckles. "Stay here for one moment."

Erik stood and took the few steps necessary to retrieve a towel and handed it to Charles. "Don't worry about the floor," he said. Charles wiped himself clean and then the awkwardness descended. 

This had to be handled carefully. Erik stood in front on Charles and offered him a hand. "Come lie down with me?" It was an invitation, not an order.

Charles looked surprised but nodded, accepting Erik's hand and standing up. Then he said awkwardly, "I mean, yes."

Erik smiled reassuringly. "It's okay, now. And you can call me Erik if you wish." He put a hand on the small of Charles' back and led him to the bed where Charles lay down, still looking unsure. Erik walked to the other side of the bed and snuggled up to Charles' backside, stroking Charles' hair. 

Charles was tense at first, but quickly relaxed into the cuddle. "Oh. Oh, this is nice."

Erik ran a hand gently over the red marks on Charles stomach. "You might have a few bruises, but not many, and they should fade quickly."

"That's not a problem at all," Charles said. "And I wouldn't mind bruises where they could be seen, even, except that I'm a college professor and students tend to--well." Charles tucked his chin. "I'm sure you don't want to hear about me."

"Why wouldn't I?" Erik asked, genuinely confused. 

"Um, I'm sure you have other...um...people who need your, ah, attention."

Erik wanted to press a kiss into Charles' hair, but refrained. "Not for a while. You still have twenty minutes left, by the way."

"What? I was sure we went over!"

Erik chuckled. "That's a good sign. It means you enjoyed yourself."

"Well of course I enjoyed myself, you're a bloody magician," Charles grumbled. 

Erik chuckled more. He wanted to pull Charles closer. Hell, he wanted to order Charles to his knees to suck Erik's cock, wanted to see those red lips stretched around Erik's penis while those blue eyes gazed up at him...

He did neither of those things. 

"Is there anything you particularly did or didn't like about what we just did?" Erik asked instead. 

"Well...not that I didn't like it, but you didn't have to...say all those nice things about me," Charles said shyly after a moment. "I know I said I didn't want you to say mean things but that doesn't mean I expected the opposite."

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true," Erik replied honestly. "But if it makes you uncomfortable--"

"Can I take you out to dinner sometime?" Charles blurted. 

Erik tried not to stiffen up, but Charles had caught him by surprise. He hoped Charles wouldn’t notice the abrupt change in his body language, but considering how Charles rolled away from him to face him, he didn't think he succeeded. 

"That is a a very kind offer," Erik said carefully, not looking Charles in the eye. "But I don't date clients."

"Oh." Charles bit his lower lip, searching Erik's face. "No, of course you don't. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Erik assured him. "Aftercare can be--confusing. We can skip it next time, that is, if you want a next time."

"No," Charles practically yelped. "I mean, yes, I want a next time, and no, I don't want to skip the--aftercare. I'll be--good." He resolutely turned over and snuggled his back up to Erik again. 

"As we both know you can be," Erik rumbled, with a hint of amusement. Charles made a soft humming noise in appreciation. 

Neither man said anything for a while, Erik just gently stroking Charles' hair, and after a few minutes Erik could tell by the change in Charles' breathing pattern that he had fallen asleep. 

_What am I doing,_ Erik thought. He had overstepped several of his own boundaries already with Charles; of course the man had asked him out. And it didn't help that Charles was an absolute angel to behold while he was tied up, so deliciously responsive, with just enough of a rebellious streak to be interesting. 

Erik thought about the other things Charles had written on his form and his cock jumped with interest. Erik gritted his teeth and continued to ignore what his body wanted until the time ran out for Charles' visit. Even though he foresaw problems on the horizon, he couldn't help but look forward to Charles' next visit and all the sweet torture he'd inflict - and experience - on that day.


	2. Second Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of what Erik's other clients are like, and some history on how Erik got into Domming. And, Charles gets bolder in his requests and Erik wants him more than ever but he can't because Rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning / Spoiler (for future chapters, not this one) in the Chapter end notes.

“Charles,” Erik said gently. “It’s time to wake up.”

Charles blinked at him with unfocused blue eyes for a moment and then nodded. Erik was pleased to see that most of the red marks on the other man’s stomach had faded during his short nap. Charles rolled up off the bed and stood there for a moment before he sleepily put on his clothes. He was too adorable like this and a part of Erik wished…

No, he didn’t, because he couldn’t. Erik led Charles to Emma’s desk. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, Charles,” Erik said in his sexiest, lowest voice. “If you would like to book a follow-up appointment, please let Emma know.”

Charles smiled shyly at him. “I did. I will. Thank you...Erik.”

Erik smiled back and walked casually back down the hall to the room he’d just been in before shutting the door behind him. He waited there for five minutes, watching the clock, before he went back out and over to Emma’s desk. 

“Did he rebook?” He demanded of her. 

Emma gave Erik an amused glance. “You know he did. Same time, next week.”

“Hmm. I thought it would be sooner than that.” Erik felt...not annoyed, but anxious somehow. 

Emma eyed him critically and her mouth slowly curled up into a smile. “You like him,” she said, with an undercurrent of delicious scandal. 

Erik wasn’t sure if he could deny that on any level. “He was...oh, he was something else, Emma.”

“Aparently he thought you were too,” Emma said archly. “He tipped you 25%.”

Erik’s eyebrows went up. “So he’s rich?” After all, Erik’s services weren’t cheap. 

“Apparently. Good thing, too, your appointment book is looking kind of empty this week,” Emma said to Erik significantly. 

“I have someone else today, though, don’t I?” Erik was really just wondering if he had time to jerk off before his next appointment. He couldn’t get Charles out of his head. 

“Actually, no,” Emma said. “Piggy had to reschedule.”

Piggy. Erik sighed. “Emma. You know we don’t judge people by their kinks. He’s not hurting anyone.” Even if in this case it was--well, it was what the client wanted to be called. 

Emma shrugged. “I can’t remember his real name. And seriously, the nickname fits. If you put a blue wig on him he’d look like [Chief Wiggum](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/simpsonstappedout/images/c/c6/20100130183731!245px-Chief_Wiggum.png/revision/latest?cb=20130512062432).”

Erik tried not to laugh and almost succeeded. She had a point. And he was hands-down Erik’s least favorite client. He sighed again. “Why is it I don’t refer him to Shaw, again?” Shaw was the only other male dominant in New York who had enough clientele to be considered a professional, despite the fact that Erik personally found a lot of his methods...well, distasteful was putting it nicely. Another word might have been abhorrent. 

“Because look at all the white space in your appointment book?” Emma said, holding it up. 

Erik sighed. “Well. At least I can go home early tonight.” _And take my time jerking off._

Emma looked at him reproachfully. “You know what you _should_ do, though, right?”

Erik frowned at Emma. She tapped his appointment book significantly. “Networking.”

Erik groaned and put his head down. “I’ll run another ad.”

“Who’s training who, here? Haven’t you been telling me for ages that it’s more cost-effective to give free floggings at the club than pay for internet ads?”

“I’ve created a monster,” Erik complained to no one in particular. “I will go at least one night this week, Emma. Definitely by Monday night. I just can’t tonight; I don’t have the...I just can’t.”

“By Monday night,” she said sternly. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Erik sighed as he got his stuff together to go home. “You’re going to make a great dominatrix, you know that?”

She smiled. “I do. Thanks, boss.”

Erik turned back just before he left Emma’s desk. “Emma. I just thought of something. Will you call Charles and tell him that I had a cancellation on Sunday if he would like to see me sooner?” It was Thursday. 

She looked at him knowingly. “Since when do you work on Sundays?”

“Shut up, Emma,” Erik said over his shoulder as he left.

**

Erik allowed himself one beer per night, and only on days that he had either worked out or had at least two clients. He had worked out that morning, so he was enjoying his beer. Erik lived by his rules. Rules kept him together, and in control. Rules kept him from remembering the things he didn’t want to remember; they kept him from getting in too deep when tantalizing people came into his life. Rules kept him safe.

His studio apartment was tiny. Really tiny. The room he dommed people in at work was about twice as large as his apartment. He could have afforded larger, but he didn’t see the point. Having a tiny apartment forced him to cut down on his possessions and it gave him motivation to follow his rules: if he didn’t tidy up frequently, things rapidly got out of hand. As far as furniture, he had a couch and the built-in [Murphy bed](http://murphybedpros.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/leg-foldout-murphy-bed.jpg) and that was about it. He never had visitors; it was one of his Rules.

Erik pulled out his phone and looked at the picture of Magda and Anya he kept on his phone and forced himself to look at every day so he wouldn’t ever forget their faces. It was the only picture he had of them that didn’t burn in the fire in 1999. Back then, there hadn’t been social media, or selfies; so 21-year-old-Erik had only the picture that had been in his wallet left of them the day his 22-year-old wife and his 9-month-old daughter died in a fire. 

Erik sipped his beer as he gazed at the familiar picture. It hadn’t been his fault. He knew it wasn’t; it was nobody’s fault. The fire had been electrical; Erik had been stuck on a subway train with no way to get back back home, even if he’d known about the fire at the time. He’d had no control of the situation. 

After a decade of depression and too much drinking and black moods and near suicide, he had dragged himself out of the hole by making rules for himself. First rule: whenever possible, be in control. That had been conveniently around the time he had met Sebastian Shaw, a professional dominant who saw potential in Erik to be the same. 

He’d hadn’t done much more than flog a couple people at the Hellfire Club when Shaw took Erik under his wing. He offered to let Erik apprentice to him, which he seemed like such a generous offer at the time, until Erik realized it meant Shaw expected Erik to play the submissive for him. When Erik balked, Shaw explained his reasoning - the best Doms knew exactly what every flogger felt like, exactly how hot that wax was, exactly how uncomfortable that position was. Erik couldn’t disagree with that, and yet the fact that Shaw seemed to take pleasure in the fact that Erik was so uncomfortable playing submissive grated on Erik. 

Erik didn’t want to think about Shaw tonight. It was a sore spot with him because he ultimately realized that there was a fundamental, irreconcilable difference between Shaw’s philosophy of dominance and Erik’s - but Erik still would not be the Dom he was today without Shaw’s training. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Erik didn’t like to think about it. 

He found a television channel that was playing a Simpsons marathon and watched until his eyes wouldn’t stay open anymore. Then he followed the Rules by forcing himself to pull down the Murphy bed and sleep in that, forced himself to brush his teeth, to floss. Having and following the Rules gave Erik a strange comfort that nothing else really did. 

**

Erik had two appointments the next day, Friday, both regulars he’d been seeing for a long time. One was an older man who had been coming to Erik once a month like clockwork for years, a [very polite older gentlemen with white hair who always wore a suit](http://iv1.lisimg.com/image/851733/600full-ian-mckellen.jpg). Erik liked their sessions because he didn’t have to think much or work very hard - the man wanted to be diapered and spanked until he peed, and then he would jerk off while Erik rubbed the soiled diaper in his face. He’d never taken longer than forty minutes to finish, but he always paid for an hour. 

The other was a Latina widow in her late forties, who was actually ridiculously attractive and shapely. Her tastes tended to vary a bit more than Mr. Diaper’s (the nickname given by Emma, of course) but generally she wanted to be tied up while still dressed and blindfolded, with a vibrator wedged against her clit. She typically wanted Erik to flog her, not terribly hard, and tell her what a nasty slut she was until she came. He didn’t know why she paid for his services when doubtless many men would have been happy to do that for her for free, but it was not the kind of question Erik would ask and she had never volunteered anything about it. Emma called her [Ms. Caliente](http://fashionbomb.thefashionbomb.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/fabulous-looks-of-the-day-sophoa-vergara.jpg).

Neither of them was interested in aftercare, which was good, because that part had the potential to be the hardest for Erik. It was a very intimate thing, and even though Mr. Diaper and Ms. Caliente trusted him, they were also very sexually confident - they knew exactly what they wanted and didn’t feel conflicted about it. Mr. Diaper had been fondly amused and declined politely when Erik offered it, but Ms. Caliente had grimaced and shaken her head. 

Before he’d met Charles, if there was anyone specific that he thought about when he jerked off it was probably Ms. Caliente. And though she was still attractive to him, he found himself counting down the days until he got to play with Charles again. 

**

Of course Charles had accepted the earlier appointment. Erik greeted Charles as soon as he arrived because Emma didn’t work Sundays, wearing a [clingy charcoal-colored shirt and tight skinny jeans](http://cdnpix.com/show/imgs/fac9da56fe3c2081c942a5472266e82a.jpg). Not quite bondage attire, but he didn’t think Charles would object to his appearance. Charles was quite obviously very excited and looked to have half an erection already...not that Erik was looking. 

Erik led Charles back directly to the sitting area in his studio and handed Charles the form. His lips quirked with amusement when Charles pulled out a piece of paper he had written some notes on. Charles started to write on the form and then hesitated and looked up at Erik, who was sitting on the armrest of the couch opposite Charles. 

“Can we talk through some of my, um, ideas before I write anything down?” Charles said hesitantly. [Charles](http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=19181777) was wearing a button-down denim shirt and jeans, and he looked at Erik with the same worshipful, excited yet timid gaze he’d worn a few days before. 

“Certainly,” Erik said. He forced himself to be cool and patient. In control.

“Well, I like the idea and the feeling of something on my nipples, but I have, um, tried myself with clothespins and it was too painful for me...do you have any, uh, weak clothespins?”

Erik considered. “The problem with clothespins is they are spring loaded, so there’s no way to control how strong they grip. I would suggest [nipple clamps](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/35/Nippleclamps.jpg) instead, as they can be precisely adjusted to exactly the amount of pressure you want.”

“Nipple clamps? That sounds...intimidating,” Charles admitted. His cheeks were starting to pink. 

“Shall I show them to you, so you can decide?”

Charles nodded shyly and Erik got a pair out of his toy cabinet that had been freshly re-latex-tipped by Emma that week. He showed Charles how they worked. “If you like the idea of clothespins, I think you will like these even better,” Erik said carefully. Part of his job as he viewed it was to make suggestions, but Charles seemed very suggestible and eager to please - Erik didn’t want to talk him into something that he really didn’t want. “It gives me more control over how much sensation to give you.” Erik grinned slyly. “I like having control.”

Charles’ mouth parted as he looked at Erik. “I think we’re in agreement there,” he said softly. 

“What else is on the menu today, Charles?” Erik drawled, one corner of his mouth still turned up. 

Charles shivered at the way Erik said his name. “Um, well, the hair-pulling is great, at least the way you do it, and I’d definitely like the blindfold today, although perhaps not right away. I do find the visual stimulation here to be...quite appealing.” And the cheeky man grinned at Erik. 

He was flirting. Erik was not used to that. “Blindfold it is,” he said softly. “Eventually. Maybe I’ll make you beg me for it.”

Charles licked his lips and he shifted in his seat. “Fuck. Yes. Okay, anyway...um. Oh, speaking of fuck, I think dirty talk? That’s...ok, right?”

“Of course,” Erik murmured. Clarification was important. “I need for you to be more specific, though.”

Charles swallowed and spoke so softly he was almost whispering. “Names...you could call me a toy or a pet but I don’t want to be called - um, well, female things. Like bitch, or cunt, or girl. I don’t like being emasculated.”

Erik nodded. “What about slut, or whore? Do you view those as female terms?”

Charles hesitated and then laughed abruptly. “I was going to say no, but when you say them it sounds pretty sexy.” He grinned at Erik. 

Erik looked at his client thoughtfully. Charles was _very_ suggestible. He decided not to use those terms just to be on the safe side. 

“Bad boy, naughty boy, good boy are still very good,” Charles said almost distractedly as he looked over his notes. “I may be more of a bad boy today, to give you warning.”

“I look forward to putting you in your place,” Erik said, trying to bite back a smirk. He realized he was flirting and hastily moved along. “Did you have anything else in mind as far as dirty talk?”

“Um...well, describing what you are doing, or maybe...what you are not doing, but could be? I mean...is it against your rules to tell me you want to fuck me even if you don’t?”

Erik really had to bite his tongue. “I can tell you I want to fuck you.”

“Do you?” Charles said and then immediately caught himself. “Wait, please forget I said that. I don’t want to know.”

That was just as well, because Erik didn’t know how he would answer that question. 

“I want to be gagged, too--clearly I need it. Haha. Seriously, though...I mean if...does gagging count as oral penetration? And I think you said you had a workaround?” Charles had rushed ahead quickly, his cheeks were bright red. 

Erik took a deep breath. “I want to be very clear with you, Charles. My rules do not follow the letter of the law. I am willing to engage in...certain activities with return clients even if there is a risk that the State of New York would consider that behavior prostitution. Do you understand?”

Charles’ eyes were big. “Um, well, to be honest, no. You wouldn’t--I mean, you’re not talking about...sex…?”

Erik shook his head. “Just borderline activities, and only with clients I trust to be discreet.”

“I will be _completely_ discreet,” Charles said fervently. “But what do you mean by ‘borderline activities’?”

Due to Charles’ suggestible nature, Erik did not want to bring up anything that Charles hadn’t already mentioned himself, although pegging is the first example that sprang to his mind. “I will gag you, if you want,” he said instead. “Unless you’d rather be orally penetrated.” 

“Actually, I do have a bit of an oral fixation,” Charles admitted, licking his lips. “I would love it if you put anything in my mouth.”

Pretending to himself that Erik didn’t have an erection went out the window at that statement. 

“Good boy,” Erik breathed, and Charles’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Erik wanted to shove something in past those delicious red lips right at that moment but he refrained. 

“It won’t be my penis,” Erik said, and Charles gave him an exaggerated but adorable pout. 

Erik allowed himself to smile a little and continued. “Do you want it to be surprise?” he said slowly, letting his eyes linger on Charles’ lips. “Do you trust me?” 

Oh, he was walking on thin ice where his own rules were considered, but he knew Charles did trust him, even if the other man hadn’t nodded vigorously and then said belatedly, “Yes.”

“Is there anything else?” Erik asked. 

Charles checked his notes. “Well, either spanking or flogging would be lovely,” he said. He finished marking the form and signed it. 

“Very well.” Erik stood up. “Do you remember your safeword?”

“Red and yellow,” Charles said promptly.

"Excellent. Will you take off your socks and shoes?"

It wasn't an order; more like a last-minute request. Puzzled, Charles did so.

"Good. Come over here." Now, that was an order. Erik was standing in the open space between the sitting area and the bed. Charles walked up to him, looking him in the eye.

"Stand still," Erik commanded softly. He walked around Charles and stood behind him. "I'm going to undress you."

Charles breath hitched. He felt Erik standing behind him, felt Erik's breath on his hair even though the other man wasn't touching him. Then he felt Erik's fingers stroking his shoulders and moving to his collar as Erik unbuttoned Charles' top button.

Charles wanted to be naughty. He put his right hand, which had been dangling at his side, on Erik's thigh behind him. 

Erik paused in what he was doing, but he didn't seem surprised. "Don't move that hand," he ordered, still unbuttoning Charles' shirt. 

Charles put his left hand on Erik’s other thigh. 

Erik chuckled and slid Charles’ now-unbuttoned shirt back over his shoulders, but not all the way off his arms. Erik wrapped the shirt tightly around Charles’ forearms, which pulled Charles’ hands off of Erik’s thighs. Using the arms of the shirt, Erik tied the shirt in place. 

“I know what you’re thinking, pet,” Erik said casually but softly, coming around to Charles’ front once his arms were secured in back. “You’re thinking that the only punishments I have for you are ones you already want, so what’s the risk in being a bad boy? But I assure you, you are forgetting something.”

Erik unbuttoned and unzipped Charles’ pants, excruciatingly slowly. He made sure that every drag of his fingers was felt by Charles’ turgid cock. 

“What am I forgetting?” Charles whispered. He was breathing deeply, his lips red and wet and slightly parted. 

“I’ll let you think about it for a while,” Erik whispered back, moving around to Charles’ back. He put his hands on Charles’ hips, inside his pants and underwear, fingers splayed. He slowly pushed down and let the fabric drag against Charles’ erection as the sub made a strangled noise. When his pants and underwear had cleared Charles’ genitals, Erik dropped them. 

“Step out,” he said to Charles, and Charles did. But he also made a grab for Erik’s dick.

Erik didn’t move away - he had been expecting something like that. He heard Charles gasp in surprise, probably because Erik was hard. 

“Is that your cock, or do you have an eggplant stuffed in your pants?” Charles exclaimed softly. 

Erik hadn’t been expecting that, and he bit his cheek not to laugh. “You’re being _very_ naughty,” Erik said, in a sterner voice than before, still not moving away, winding his right hand into Charles’ hair. “I gather you haven’t figured out how I’m going to punish you if you persist in being anything but a Very. Good. Boy.”

Erik tugged Charles’ hair a little bit on each of the last three words, but Charles’ hand was still on his clothed cock. 

Erik stood close to Charles and nosed the shell of his ear. “Only good boys get to come,” he whispered. 

Charles inhaled in surprise and let go of Erik’s cock.

“You orgasm only at my discretion, pet,” Erik continued. He stroked his hand down the side of Charles’ face and chest while he continued speaking. “Perhaps you didn’t notice the ‘climax not guaranteed’ in my contract. Fortunately for you, I’m feeling generous, and I may still let you come if you make it up to me: tell me what you want to do to my cock, in detail.”

Charles swallowed. “May I have a blindfold, sir?”

“Start talking,” Erik ordered, “And if I like what you say, I’ll think about it.”

“I would...unzip your pants first,” Charles started hesitantly. 

Erik walked over to his toy cabinet and Charles stopped talking, confused. “I’m getting some toys,” Erik explained. “Don’t stop.”

“I would pull your pants down and rub my face against your hard cock,” Charles said. “I love the way that feels, velvety but hard at the same time.”

“Go on,” Erik said, walking back over to Charles with some toys in hand. Charles had his eyes closed. Charles’ words, especially being spoken in his Oxford accent, were making Erik re-think his decision to wear skinny jeans that day.

“I would lick, with just the tip of my tongue, the frenulum,” Charles said. “And then, using the flat of my tongue, I would lick the underside of your cock from the base until I reach the frenulum again.” 

“I had no idea my new toy was such a cock-whore,” Erik said, remembering a split second later that he had told himself he wasn’t going to say ‘whore.’ But Charles didn’t seem to object. “You’ve earned yourself the blindfold.”

He stood behind Charles and tied on the lined, padded, black silk blindfold. Charles was standing still, breathing more deeply than usual, trembling slightly. 

“Keep going,” Erik ordered, as he untied Charles’ shirt from his arms and replaced it with proper fur-lined leather shackles. 

“I...um...it’s getting hard to focus,” Charles admitted. “But I would lick the head of your cock, swirling my tongue around it until it was completely wet, before I slid it into my mouth, slowly, while I look you in the eye.”

Erik could imagine that all too well, seeing his cock disappear between Charles’ red lips as blue eyes gazed into his. He was getting too turned on to be able to focus; perhaps this idea had backfired on him. 

Erik moved around to Charles front and brushed his hand across his client’s nipples. Charles gasped a little in surprise as Erik continued to fondle the nubs until they became erect. 

“Do you know what’s happening next, pet?” Erik asked, his voice low but not quite a whisper.

“Nipple clamps,” Charles whispered. 

“That’s right,” Erik said. He put one on the nipple he had just been fondling. “I’m going to slowly tighten it. Tell me when it’s good.”

Charles made a whimpering noise as Erik turned the screw that tightened the clamps until Charles gasped, “Maybe a little less than that.”

Erik turned screw back just a touch. “Good?” he said, giving the clamp a light tug.

“Unnnggg, god, yes,” Charles gasped, his head going back. 

Erik prepared and clamped the other nipple, getting to the right amount of pressure more quickly now that he knew what Charles’ tolerance was. 

He tugged on both together and was far too pleased at the broken moan Charles made. 

“Such a good boy,” Erik breathed. “I’m going to lead you to the bed, and I want you on your hands and knees.” 

“Yes, sir,” Charles whispered. When he was in position, Erik clipped the [leather wrist shackles](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61nnYtHgtPL._UX385_.jpg) together, using the D-rings attached to both of them and a small carabiner. Then he put similar leather shackles on Charles’ ankles and clipped those together as well. Last, he put a metal pole with loops on each end underneath Charles, parallel to his body. He clipped both the ankle cuffs and wrist cuffs to the opposite ends of the pole. 

Charles’ attention was all on the way gravity was tugging on the nipple clamps, so while he noticed Erik moving around him, he wasn’t quite sure what the dom was doing until Erik said, “Try to lie down flat.”

Charles tried to push his ankles out and realized that he couldn’t. He whimpered.

“You are completely at my mercy now,” Erik whispered. “I could do whatever I wanted to you. Keep you tied up and play with you for hours, keeping you at the brink of orgasm but never quite getting there.”

Charles squirmed and moaned. He knew that what Erik was saying wasn’t true, but fuck, it was hot to hear him say it. 

“I could fuck you in any hole I wanted,” Erik said, reaching out a hand to stroke Charles’ body. “I could fuck your mouth or your ass. And there’s nothing you could do to stop me.”

“Yes, yes, do it,” Charles moaned.

“How are your nipples, pet?” Erik said, reaching underneath Charles to tug lightly on each clamp. “Everything still good?”

“Yes, sir, still good,” Charles gasped. 

“I’m going to spank you now,” Erik said. “I want you to thank me after each spank. If you forget--you might be leaving here today with blue balls. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Charles said brokenly. 

Erik swatted Charles rear end with his gloved hand, not terribly hard, and watched as it jolted Charles. 

“Thank you, sir,” Charles gasped, “That--it made the nipple clamps move.”

“That’s part of the fun,” Erik said, stroking Charles’ ass appreciatively. “Did you not like it?”

“I did,” Charles admitted. 

Erik spanked him again, slightly harder. Charles moaned and Erik waited before hearing Charles say belatedly, “Thank you sir!”

Erik struck him two times in quick succession. 

“Thankyouthankyou sir!” Charles cried out. He was moaning with every breath and squirming. 

Erik continued spanking Charles with a slowly increasing intensity until his bottom was nicely reddened, but not so red that it would stay that way for more than a few hours. 

Charles was almost beyond speech, continuing to moan thank-yous even after Erik had stopped. 

“You are being a very good boy,” Erik said. “I think I’ll give you a treat. My cock. Would you like that, my pet?” As he spoke, Erik was stepping into his strap-on harness. 

“Oh yes, please, sir, I want to suck your cock so bad,” Charles babbled. 

“I’m going to fuck your face now,” Erik said as he fastened into place his most realistic-feeling silicon dildo. It had been sitting in his heated drawer, so it should approximate body temperature. “I hope you’re ready for it.”

“Yes, please,” moaned Charles. 

Erik walked around to the other side of the bed so his crotch was at Charles’ face-level.

“Stick out your tongue,” Erik commanded softly. Charles did so immediately, and Erik rubbed the silicon cock against Charles’ tongue. 

Charles immediately moaned and lapped at it. “Oh fuck,” he breathed. “I thought--”

Erik saw as Charles figured it out. Still, he put on a good show, moaning and swirling his tongue around the head before enveloping the whole head with his mouth and fucking his face on the dildo. It was almost hypnotizing, watching the dildo disappear between Charles’ lips - he could almost feel what it would feel like on his cock...

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Erik breathed. He pulled his ‘cock’ away. “You’ve been such a very good boy, Charles. You’ve earned a orgasm. Can you sit back on your ankles?”

He could, but only because Erik had quickly unclipped the pole keeping his hands and feet apart. 

“Hold your hand open for some lube,” Erik directed. Charles did so, and Erik drizzled a generous amount into his palm. 

“Make yourself come, I know you know how,” Erik said. “Tell me when you’re close.”

“May I,” Charles licked his lips. “May I keep sucking on your cock, sir?”

Definitely an oral fixation. “Mmm, I don’t know. Why don’t you beg me a little bit more?”

“Please, I want your cock in my mouth,” Charles cried. “I want it to fill me up, I want to gag on it - please, sir, I’m begging you--”

Charles had no shame like this and him begging for Erik’s cock was beyond hot. Erik stood on the bed in front of Charles, so his crotch was at the right level for Charles to suck his ‘cock’. He nudged the silicon dildo against Charles’ lips until the other man gasped and engulfed it with his mouth, sucking it back as far as he could. Erik wished he had a flogger with him, but in the absence of that he fisted his hand in the hair at the back of Charles’ head and tugged from time to time.

As expected, it didn’t take long before Charles gasped, “I’m close!” 

Erik knelt in front of Charles and as soon as he saw the tell-tale slow down that meant Charles was past the point of no return, he released the nipple clamps from Charles’ nipples. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Charles yelled, because the most painful part of nipple clamps is when they come off after they’ve been on a while. Erik alleviated some of the pain by pressing his thumbs against the nubs and rubbing gentle circles. Charles spurted into his hands as he collapsed forward against Erik.

It was an awkward position. Erik gently maneuvered Charles onto his back and unclipped his ankles and wrists from one another. He went to get a warm washcloth and gently cleaned Charles up as Charles made soft noises of appreciation. 

He took the ankle and wrist cuffs off, then removed the blindfold too. Then he lay down next to Charles, who immediately rolled over and put his arm over Erik. 

“Is this okay?” he murmured. “My ass is kind of sore; it feels better not to lie on it.”

“It’s fine,” said Erik, even though a part of his mind was telling him this is anything but fine; this is how people move from scening into relationships. 

“I was thinking,” Charles said after a few minutes of silence, “About suspension bondage. Do you do that?”

Oh, how beautiful Charles would look trussed up, hanging from Erik’s four-poster bed…

“I do,” Erik murmured into Charles’ hair. “It takes some time, though. And I might need to have an assistant here.”

“An assistant? Like - Emma?”

“Well, there’s someone else I usually work with for these kinds of things, a man who’s very strong, and very discreet.”

“Well...do you have a picture of him?” Charles asked shyly. 

Erik fought off the jealousy that he felt at Charles’ question. “Sure. I’ll get it for you before you go.”

“And - just curious - do you do anything with candle wax?”

Erik couldn’t help but smile at Charles’ eagerness and curiosity. He’d created a monster. “Oh yes. Candle wax is fun.”

“Is it awfully - painful?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Erik replied. “It depends on the melting temperature of the wax, really. Here, I’ll show you.” Erik got up and got a small tealight out of his toy cabinet. He lit it with a lighter and after a minute he poked a finger at it. Satisfied, he said to Charles, “Hold out your hand, palm down.”

Charles did, and from about a foot up, Erik let a few drops of hot wax splatter onto the back of Charles’ hand. “Oh, that’s not bad at all,” Charles exclaimed. “That would probably be really fun on my nipples, or...other places.”

“Yes, this is a good starting candle,” Erik agreed. “Others burn much hotter and leave red welts that last for days. That doesn’t seem to be your cup of tea.”

“Not so much, no,” Charles admitted. He had rolled onto his side, unselfconsciously displaying himself. His hair was mussed and his cheeks were flushed. He looked completely debauched and very happy about it. 

“What else are you curious about?” Erik asked after a moment. He could tell Charles had more to say, but for some reason he was being shy about it. 

“Well, since you asked...where did you get [this bed](http://dungeonbeds.com/images/fols_dr_lg.gif)?” 

“I made it,” Erik answered calmly. Charles looked at him in disbelief. 

Erik shrugged, a soft smile on his face. “I wanted something really sturdy, and I couldn’t find anything that met my needs for what I thought was a reasonable price. Besides, I like working with metal. I made the bondage rack, too,” he added. 

“You are an exceptionally talented man,” Charles murmured. 

Why did he tell Charles that he made the bed? He didn’t usually tell clients. Erik realized that a part of him wanted to impress Charles, to show the other man that he was more than just a dom, that he had hobbies and aspirations. 

And that way lies danger, Erik told himself. He stood up and extended a hand to Charles, but he noticed Charles was staring at his crotch with something like hunger, where Erik’s erection was still quite obvious.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Charles breathed, staring at Erik’s crotch and licking his lips. “I wouldn’t tell.”

Erik was actually tempted for a split second. “No,” he said quickly. “But thank you.”

Charles accepted his hand and reluctantly stood up and started getting dressed. “So who do I make my follow-up appointment with?” He asked. “Since Emma’s not here.”

“You can tell me,” Erik said. 

“Is Tuesday too soon?” He asked, his eyes big and blue and questioning. 

Erik shook his head. “Not at all. I think it’s perfect. Shall I block out several hours, if you do want to try suspension bondage?”

Charles smiled. “Yes, please.”

Charles followed Erik to the front desk where they took care of the payment. Charles tipped 25% again. Erik saw the [picture of Logan](http://www.complementsetproteines.com/img/cms/large.jpg) that they kept near the front desk for this reason, and he showed it to Charles. 

“This is Logan,” Erik said. “I trust he will be acceptable?”

Charles glanced at the photo, his eyebrows rising in appreciation. “More than acceptable,” he said with a smile. “Not as ‘acceptable’ as you, though.”

Erik tried hard to ignore the pleasure he felt at Charles’ statement. 

“Until next time,” Charles said, leaving with a wave.

Erik could barely wait until the door was locked to run back to his studio and jerk off, picturing Charles tied up and squirming for him, covered in candle wax, maybe a ball gag in his mouth…

It was good, he reflected to himself when he was done, that Logan would be here next time. Because Erik wasn’t sure if he could keep declining Charles’ advances on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few chapters down the road there will be some Charles/Shaw extremely dubious consent, a la 50 Shades of Gray, i.e, abuse disguised as bdsm. Everything between Charles and Erik will be 110% consensual, and they will have their revenge against Shaw together. Chapters will be fully tagged and you can skip that one if its not your thang and the story will still hang together.


	3. Rainbow Roller Coaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the Piggy stuff, y'all. I swear it's important to the plot. Hopefully you will find it at least amusing...
> 
> I don't think I need a content warning for the suspension bondage, but FYI it does get a little intense for Charles.

Monday morning at work is never a good thing, even when one’s work is being a professional dominant. Erik had managed to drag himself in by ten o’clock that monring only to find that his first appointment had cancelled. “Dammit,” he hissed. 

Emma silently handed him his coffee and wisely decided not to ask him if he’d made it out to the Hellfire Club yet. He grunted his thanks for the coffee and went into his studio. 

There was always cleaning to be done. Erik didn’t mind cleaning; he did it often enough that the gross or less pleasant aspects were virtually non-existent. He used antibacterial disinfectants on anything that might touch bare flesh, which was quite a few objects and surfaces. Next, he went through his inventory; the shackles Charles had ejactuated onto could be either thrown out or cleaned and set aside for Charles’ use only. Erik wasn’t shy about asking for clients to buy their own toys, or pay for the ones he couldn’t use anymore, and he was sure Charles wouldn’t mind (the young college professor had booked three appointments in the space of a week, after all; money didn’t seem to be a problem for him) but Erik decided he didn’t need to charge Charles for the shackles. 

Although he probably should keep an eye on future expenses like that; money was getting tight…

Erik shook his head and focused. He checked to make sure he had everything he needed for Charles’ suspension bondage session tomorrow. Although Charles hadn’t specified ‘shibari’ or even ‘ropes’, Erik thought that’s what he wanted...and anyway, straps were so less...artistic. And straps didn’t take nearly as long, and Charles hadn’t objected to the longer session…

“Good morning,” Emma said brightly, coming into his studio and interrupting his train of thought, which had been on the verge of getting good. “I trust the coffee has kicked in and it’s safe to talk?”

Erik grunted, but it was a less grumpy grunt than earlier. 

“Your only appointment today is Piggy, and he will be here at two o’clock,” Emma said briskly. “I’ve sent out birthday cards to your regular client’s who are having birthdays this month, and left messages for anyone who you haven’t seen in a few months. Do you need me to order any supplies?”

“[White tealights](http://www.target.com/p/7-hour-tea-light-candles-white-100-count/-/A-14247900%0A), the bag of one hundred,” Erik said. He had enough for Charles’ session the next day, if he did indeed want to have hot wax dripped on him as he had indicated he might, but it would lower his supply. “[Gloves](http://www.dhresource.com/0x0s/f2-albu-g2-M00-6B-3D-rBVaG1UFCW-AdDevAAVmFwmww-s942.jpg/sexual-fisting-latex-gloves-adult-sex-toys.jpg), as always...and a couple hundred feet of the [rainbow shibari rope](http://www.degiottorope.com/Underwatercolor-Rainbow-s/4396.htm).”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Someone’s having a fun week.”

Erik allowed himself the tiniest smile. “Someone’s got a rich client.”

“All your clients are rich,” Emma said, taking notes on her phone of the supplies Erik wanted. Then she hesitated and looked up at him. “If there’s some extra time this week…” She said tentatively.

Emma wasn’t tentative about anything, usually, so Erik knew what this was about. “Yes,” he said with a strong exhale that sound suspiciously like a sigh, “You should have some more training this week.”

Erik had never actually trained anyone to be a dom before Emma, but Emma had come to him after having a bad few days with Shaw and offered to work as his assistant for a very reasonable wage if he would train her. Erik had desperately needed an assistant at the time, so he had taken her up on it, before realizing that the only ways to train a dom that he knew of were the methods Shaw had used on him...something she had already rejected from Shaw, even if Erik had been willing to do it.

Observation of another dom at work was of course a key part of learning to be a dominatrix, but observation could only get one so far, and the clients had to agree to be observed in the first place. Neither Mr. Diaper nor Ms. Caliente had agreed to Emma observing, and although Piggy was actually pretty into it, Emma didn’t _want_ to observe his sessions with Piggy. 

Not that Erik blamed her.

So, they compromised, and did scenes with each other every few weeks. Emma needed to both practice dominating and she needed to know what the tools of the trade felt like, so it was necessary for them both to switch off and play both roles...but it was equally uncomfortable for both of them, as they both preferred to 1) be playing the dominant role and 2) work with someone who _wanted_ to be playing the submissive role. While Erik could objectively agree that Emma was a beautiful woman, he wasn’t attracted to her because when she was tied up she just looked miserable, and he wanted to tie up people who wanted to be tied up.

“Do you think Charles might let me observe?” Emma asked a moment later. Apparently their minds were following similar thought paths.

Erik considered. “Probably he would. Tomorrow won’t be the best time, though. Logan will be here helping, it might be too crowded.”

“Logan?” Emma said sharply. “You needed an assistant for a session and you asked someone other than your assistant?”

Erik looked at her, unimpressed. “Can you lift someone who weighs about forty pounds more than you do?”

Emma pressed her lips together and huffed. “Fine. But ask him if I can observe next time.”

“Hey, who’s the boss here?” Erik complained as Emma left the room, but it had no real heat in it. 

**

Before Erik was ready for it, it was time for Piggy. Erik heard the chime that indicated his next client was there and waiting for him. He put on a new pair of rubber gloves, and walked out to get the man. Piggy unfortunately tended to harass Emma if Erik left him in the waiting room too long. 

On his first visit to Erik, just two weeks before, Piggy had explained to Erik what he liked. “I usually go to chicks, Dominatrixes. I mean, I’m not a f--...I’m not gay. I don’t want your dick in my ass, just so we got that straight. But I can’t find a Dominatrix who has room for me in her schedule nowadays, and Mistress Margaret recommended you.”

Erik had kept his face carefully blank and looked at the form the man had filled out. Just because the dominatrices in town didn’t want to work with him anymore didn’t necessarily mean that he was trouble - there was a lof of demand for female doms and they could afford to be picky, and Piggy was large and not very physically attractive and his kinks might not be something other people wanted to deal with: he wanted to be treated like a literal pig, complete with dirt and/or mud, slops, squealing, and name-calling. He’d also put pegging on his form. Erik frowned a little at the perceived discrepancy. “Pegging? You do know that is…?”

“I know what it is. Just because I like things in my ass doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

“You know that [scene from Deliverance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqNMjZpSbnU)?” Piggy said feverishly. “Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, man.”

Ned Beatty getting raped by rednecks was the hottest thing he’d ever seen? 

_I do not judge people for their kinks,_ Erik thought.

On that same first appointment two weeks before, Erik had given Piggy his “what I won’t do” spiel and the hefty man had been disappointed (mostly about the pegging, but a little bit about the gagging) until Erik explained his workarounds. For anal penetration, Erik explained that he had a place on his wall where he could mount a buttplug or a dildo and order Piggy to back himself onto it and fuck himself on it. Piggy found that acceptable. 

It wasn't actually against Erik's personal rules with repeat clients to wear a strap-on, even if it might have been prosecuted as prostitution in court...he just didn't want to simulate sex with this particular client. 

Most days Piggy wanted to be fed slops as part of his scene, and of course Erik required that he bring his own. But he didn’t seem to have any slops with him today. 

“Today,” Piggy said in anticipation when they got to the room. “[Nose hook](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7a/Nosehook-drawing-bw.png) and collar, for sure, name-calling, humiliation, the usual, yadda-yadda, and then make me roll in some dirt. I bought some soil for that purpose. And then--” he shuddered with delight as he thought about it, already sitting down on the couch to take off his shoes, “--when I jerk myself off, I want you to piss on me so the dirt makes mud.” He grinned as if he were exceptionally pleased with himself. “Hot, right?”

Erik sighed to himself. He used to have a strict “no pissing” policy but he couldn't really justify it when he was willing to do other things (at least with repeat clients) that were much more likely to be considered prostitution but the State of New York. And...he needed to keep every client he could, these days. Erik carefully checked over his form to make sure it matched what he was saying, and it did. “That all sounds fine, Mr.--” Erik cleared his throat, trying to cover up that he could not for the life of himself remember Piggy’s real name. Instead, he quickly moved on. “Safeword?” Erik reminded people before every scene. Piggy had never used his, but it wouldn’t do for him to forget it. 

“Red,” he said, used to the ritual by now. 

“Ready?”

“Almost--here’s my dirt.” He handed a baggy to Erik who accepted it with a gloved hand. 

“Do you want to finish getting undressed first…?”

Piggy grinned. “You can take care of that. Ready.”

It might have meant something else in a different context, but this was Piggy’s third visit to Erik and he knew what he meant. 

“Get off my fucking couch, you disgusting pig,” Erik snapped suddenly, using his boot to push Piggy onto the floor. “Why are you still wearing clothes? Clothes are for human beings, not filthy fucking pigs!”

Piggy’s eyes rolled back in utter delight as he started making snorting pig sounds and taking off his clothes.

_I do not judge people for their kinks,_ Erik thought to himself. 

Piggy wasn’t that bad, Erik told himself as he took a fistful of dirt out of the bag and threw it at the now naked, heavyset man in his studio. The only thing about him that really bugged Erik was that every time he was about to come - and he jerked himself off every time, thank god, he didn’t expect Erik to touch him - he would scream “Fuck me in the ass! I’m a queer little piggy! I’m a piggy faggot!” He didn’t really want that, of course; it was clearly specified on his form. But it bothered Erik that Piggy found being gay to be the most degrading thing and thus, ironically, arousing thing he could think of. 

Also, Piggy kept hitting on Emma, and he just seemed...kind of sleazy…and he didn’t tip...

Erik tried really hard to like all his clients at least a little bit, but Piggy made it hard to do that. 

**

When he’d finished with Piggy, even after he cleaned up, Erik felt gross. After the man left Erik put his elbows on Emma’s desk and put his face in his hands. “I need to do something wholesome,” he moaned to Emma. 

“You need to find some more clients so you can dump that guy on some other poor sap,” she said significantly. She very unsubtly pushed a postcard flyer for the Hellfire Bondage Club in his direction. “You promised,” she reminded him.

One of Erik’s rules was that he kept his word, so even though Erik did not feel like going to the Hellfire Club, he decided he would go that night. At least Monday nights were the night that people in the lifestyle went, not the Saturday night crowds of bachelorette parties and people looking to gawk. 

So, that night found Erik putting on a tight black T-shirt, black jeans, and his metal forearm gauntlets. He shoved a stack of business cards in his pocket and grabbed one of his leather floggers with its holster and went to the Hellfire Bondage Club. 

Even though it had been a few months since he’d been there, soon after Erik walked in he saw someone he recognized right away. [Mistress Margaret](http://oi40.tinypic.com/8xvdpu.jpg), a professional dominatrix and therefore a colleague, easily recognizable by her trademark bright red lipstick and vintage attire.

There was an empty seat next to her, and Erik didn’t see the harm in sitting and chatting for a few minutes. That was networking, right? “Hiya, Peggy.”

She gave him a cool, amused look. “Hello, Erik. How’s tricks?”

He spread his hands. “I’m here, aren’t I?” All the doms did their ‘networking’ at the Hellfire Club; it was the only real bondage club in town. 

Peggy smirked at him. They were actually friends, but he had a feeling he knew why she was playing it cool - she had a cute redhead kneeling by her feet. Everything in Peggy’s demeanor - from her straight back to the way she gripped the leash attached to the sub’s collar told Erik the girl was a new sub. 

And because he was a bit of a bastard he could call her out on it. “Still trying to impress your new sub, huh?”

Peggy’s eyes flashed at him but she smiled coolly and hummed noncommittally. “She’s a pretty pet, isn’t she?”

Erik looked closer and realized he knew Peggy’s pet. “Raven?”

“Took you long enough to recognize me,” the redhead complained, half-joking. 

“Well, the lighting is dim in here and the last time I saw you, you were blond,” Erik pointed out. 

She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a switch.”

Erik snorted. Raven was in fact one of the few true switches Erik knew, equally happy being a Dom or Sub. But even in a broader sense, everything about Raven changed frequently; he had seen her with nearly every hair color imaginable and even her gender seemed to change sometimes. 

“How do you and Master Erik know each other?” Peggy asked Raven, only a little sharply. 

Raven turned to Peggy with her eyes lowered. “I’m sorry, Mistress. I’ve known Erik for a couple years. We’ve never been more than friends.”

“I’m pretty sure I gave you a freebie flogging here a couple years ago,” Erik supplied helpfully, because of his bastard streak. 

Raven gave Erik a dirty look and Peggy pulled on Raven’s collar. “We’re going to have to have a talk about honesty when we get home,” she breathed into Raven’s ear in her sexy British accent. 

“Yes, Mistress,” Raven said, her eyes fluttering closed. 

“Small world, isn’t it?” Peggy said conversationally to Erik, as she relented tugging on Raven’s collar and offered her sub a few laps of her martini instead. 

“Our world is small,” Erik agreed, watching Raven delicately lap at Peggy's martini. It would have been be rude not to watch.

“Is there anything my pet can do for you?” Peggy asked. Erik looked at her. This was a game for them, intended to make her sub a little anxious. Peggy knew Erik was not the kind of Dom to demand anything like a blowjob.

_Those_ kinds of Doms tended to congregate in the back rooms now. The back rooms had always been a place for rougher activities than happened in the front rooms of the club - recently, those activities had been rougher than ever, including blood play, gang bangs, and bondage bukkake. Erik didn’t judge people for their kinks, and he might even be willing to engage in some of those activities himself, either for fun or profit, but he was fastidious about safety, cleanliness, and consent; he would never do any of that in the back of a bondage club that was essentially open to the public. There were too many variables and it was too hard to control the circumstances. 

Peggy was waiting for a response. A mischievous idea occurred to him. “Footrub?”

Peggy smirked as Raven rolled her eyes. “Do I have to, Mistress?”

“Only if you want to come tonight.” Peggy said, tugging on Raven’s collar.

Raven put head down meekly and started to untie Erik’s boot.

Erik relented. “Aw, I was just kidding. You’ll have to earn your orgasm some other way.”

Raven stuck out her tongue at him where Peggy couldn't see and settled back down into her kneeling position with Peggy stroking her hair. 

Peggy indicated to Erik a group of giggling girls dressed in white that passed by them. “Shouldn’t you be offering these young ladies floggings?”

“Bachelorette party,” Erik said dismissively. “Dilettantes.” Girls like those came here for the shock value, not because they actually were interested in the scene or the lifestyle. 

“We all have to start somewhere,” Peggy said significantly. 

Erik knew what she was saying. Odds were if a bachelorette party was here, at least one of the girls had a genuine interest in at least bondage, if not sadomasochism. But he didn’t respond. He wasn’t ready to get up just yet. He wondered if he should have taken Raven up on that foot rub after all. “Have you been in the back room recently?” He asked Peggy idly. 

She shook her head. “It’s been pretty crowded, though. Shaw and his gang are back there most nights, these days.”

Erik really didn’t like the new crop of doms that had sprung up recently at all. Following in the footsteps of Erik’s old mentor Shaw, and after the release of the movie Fifty Shades of Grey, they seemed to feel that getting explicit consent was not important. Shaw’s philosophy had always been that Subs didn’t really know what they wanted; they needed to have their boundaries pushed to figure it out. He was a Dom’s Dom, a man with a scary ability to get inside people’s heads and manipulate what they thought they had agreed to. Erik had fallen prey to him once, and he still had a way of making Erik feel insecure about his techniques sometimes, as if he should be pushing his subs harder...and Erik was not typically insecure about anything regarding his profession; Shaw just had a way of getting under his skin. He was also, unfortunately, very handsome and charismatic, and he usually was surrounded by an entourage of Doms as well as Subs. 

"I referred someone to you recently," Peggy commented, snapping Erik out of his unpleasant train of thought, a smirk playing about her lips. "Did he call?"

She meant Piggy. "Yeah. Thanks for that. I think."

She shrugged. "He'll help keep you afloat until you can get your assistant up and running with her own client base."

Emma was a long way from that, unfortunately. Erik sighed. "Alright, I'm off to spank the masses."

Erik bid Raven and Peggy farewell and went to stand by the club's most prominently located bondage rack, where a petite dark-skinned woman was currently getting flogged by a voluptuous blond woman. Both were wearing skimpy leather bikinis and leather collars. Erik just stood nearby with an impassive expression on his face and as he expected, he was soon getting approached by people who liked his look and saw his flogger and wanted a free sample. He flogged several people - enough to show that he knew what he was doing - and passed out about a dozen cards. He decided it was time to leave when Shaw saw him, even though the man didn’t do more than give him a very courteous nod. They were civil enough to each other - Erik just didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

**

Erik was really, really looking forward to his appointment with Charles the next day. He had blocked out the rest of his day for other bookings and had even given Emma the rest of the day off - which is why it was a little disconcerting that Charles arrived about fifteen minutes late for his appointment, utterly frazzled and annoyed. 

“I am so sorry for being late,” he exclaimed breathlessly as he came in. “My idiot of a step-brother is suing me for the bulk of my parents' estate and it’s the most pointless, stupid, time-wasting lawsuit--” he interrupted himself by taking a purposeful deep breath. 

“Well, let’s just keep your mind occupied on other things for a few hours, shall we?” Erik said, with his flirtiest smile. Logan hadn’t arrived yet, but Erik was trying not to let it get to him, even though he really didn’t like it when he couldn’t control a situation.

Charles looked at Erik like he was the lighthouse in a storm. “Oh, yes, that sounds lovely,” he said with a grateful sigh. “Um, maybe this is a ridiculous question, but can I shower here?” He had surely noticed the open-air shower in the corner. 

“Of course,” Erik said. “You may prefer the private shower behind the bathroom to the open air one, but it won’t bother me either way.”

Charles eyes sparkled as they met Erik’s. He seemed to be feeling better already. “Oh, you’ll be getting quite enough of looking at my body today, I’m sure,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d prefer privacy if that’s an option.”

Logan arrived next, a few minutes after Charles got into the shower. “Thanks for the call, man,” Logan said. “What are we doing today?”

“Suspension bondage," Erik said tersely. "I wish you had arrived a little sooner; I was hoping to explain a few--”

Erik stopped talking as Charles came out of the bathroom, dressed but missing socks and shoes. His hair was wet. Erik didn’t know why wet hair suddenly looked so erotic to him. 

“You must be Logan,” Charles said, extending his hand with a smile. “I’m Charles.”

“You must be pretty fucking brave, Charles,” Logan responded, accepting his hand. Charles lost his smile and and looked confused.

“Brave? Why’s that?” He blinked and looked at Erik. 

“Come have a seat,” Erik suggested. Charles sat on one of the loveseats and Logan sat in the other. Erik sat on on the armrest of the loveseat Logan occupied. 

“Logan is surprised because suspension bondage is often done more as an art--for example, for photoshoots and the like--more than for...pleasure,” Erik said. The phrase he wanted to say was ‘sexual gratification’ but he was hyper-aware of the way the New York state law about prostitution was phrased. “As I explained, this will take a while; three hours at least. It might be hard for you to feel...engaged the entire time, and the less...engaged you are, the more pain you will experience. Does that make sense?” Again, the appropriate word was “aroused” instead of “engaged”, but Erik was cautious, and he was fairly certain that Charles took his meaning. 

Charles considered. “So--suspension bondage--is especially painful? I mean, I want it to be fun,” he said. “Not that I don't enjoy some pain, obviously, but I don’t want it to actually be torture.”

Erik looked between Logan and Charles. He trusted both of them, he realized, at least with this. “I have an idea that would probably alleviate most of your concerns, but...it would be pretty clearly be considered prostitution by New York State.”

Logan looked surprised verging on shocked, probably because he had known Erik for several years.

Charles looked extremely intrigued. “I’ve told you, Erik, I will be completely discreet. Also, as far as prostitution charges, wouldn’t I be at much risk as you, for patronizing you?”

True. Erik nodded and turned to Logan. “Alright?” he asked. 

“It's not a dealbreaker for me,” Logan said. Now he was looking curious too. 

Erik took a deep breath. “Have you heard of tantra, or tantric sex?”

Charles nodded. “Yes, I think so. That’s...extended sexual pleasure? I think some famous person does it--Sting?”

“Yes, he’s one of them, and that’s essentially right.” Erik licked his lips and forced himself to continue, to be in control, even though he could feel his own cheeks reddening as he anticipated trying to explain his thoughts. “I want to make sure you enjoy yourself, and parts of the suspension bondage process may be more painful than you will find pleasant unless you are aroused. So...since the session will be so long, I’m planning to incorporate some tantric methods, including start-and-stop genital stimulation...the idea is to build up slowly and keep you intensely aroused and approaching orgasm but to not quite get there, well, until you do, of course.”

Both men were staring at him. Charles recovered first. “Is this--Are you--I mean, have you done this before?”

“I have put people in shibari suspension bondage and I have have tantric sex,” Erik said and evenly as he could. “But I have not done both together before, no. However, I believe it would be a very...singular experience.”

“Fuckin’ transcendant, more likely,” Logan said. He was shaking his head at Erik in what looked like both disbelief and admiration. Erik heard the unspoken doubt. _If it works._

Charles looked a little understandably nervous. “Um. Okay. If I need to stop--will it be hard to do that?”

Erik shook his head. “No. I could cut the ropes to get you down in seconds if I had to. But I wouldn’t be able to get you back up again if that happens - or at least not quickly. We’d have to start over.”

Charles considered. “Might be good to forego the gag again, then,” he said regretfully.

“Yes,” Erik agreed. “Actually, I’ll need your verbal feedback for the tantric part to work.”

Charles gave Erik an impish grin. “But you’ll gag me one of these days, right?”

“You can count on it,” Erik said, his voice a little lower than he intended. Logan’s eyes slid from Charles to Erik, briefly, and he looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Well,” Charles said with a big exhale and a smile. “Then count me in. Will there be, um, opportunity for anything else? I was hoping, maybe, the wax? What about breathplay? And the nipple clamps were really fun last time too.” 

“I don’t think breathplay is advisable for today,” Erik said gently, even though it was one of his personal favorites and his cock was hard just thinking about it. “Let’s put that in the ‘raincheck’ category with the gag, hmm?”

Logan was giving Charles a frankly impressed look.

“Well, I’m nothing if not adventurous,” Charles said, with a smile. 

“Adventurous?” Logan snorted. “You’re a fuckin’ wet dream.”

Charles looked at Logan slyly. “Is that good?”

“It’s very good,” Erik assured him, with a purr behind his voice. 

Charles gave Erik a look that said ‘fuck me’ like no other look Erik could remember getting in his life. He tried to remember what he needed to say next, and recovered just in time. 

“Your form,” Erik said, pushing it across the coffee table to Charles. “Please don’t write tantra, but do write down everything else we discussed.” 

“I’m putting blindfold too,” Charles said. “Just FYI.” he winked at Erik. He was writing other things, too, which Erik hoped didn’t include anything that the state of New York clearly defined as ‘sexual conduct.’ Probably not; Charles was very bright. 

Erik glanced at the form immediately after. In addition to what they had talked about, Charles had written down _YES dirty talk me or you. Good names: good/bad boy, pet, toy (slut/whore: use sparingly). Please no: cunt, bitch, girl, woman._ Erik pushed the form at Logan and tapped that part for Logan to see, too. 

For someone who had entered in such a bad mood, Charles was amazingly chipper now. 

“Almost forgot,” Erik said, cursing himself. When would Charles’ big blue eyes _not_ be a distraction? “This shouldn’t go on the form either, but depending on...well, it may be either of us--myself or Logan...touching you. Touching your genitals,” Erik forced himself to say, as his need for clarity battled his ‘stay within the law’ reflex, even though he had already addressed that particular issue. He hastily added, “But only if you are comfortable with that.” 

Charles blushed for the first time since he walked in that day. “It’s fine with me,” he said. 

“Logan?”

Logan gave Erik a tiny grin. “As long as it’s a guy, Anne-Marie won’t mind.”

“We’ll both be wearing gloves, of course,” Erik added. 

Charles smiled. “I think this sounds like a lot of fun.” He paused. “And I think I should pee first.”

Logan laughed outright. “Smart kid!” 

Charles grinned at Logan and slipped into the bathroom. Erik turned to Logan. “I’m sorry to spring all this on you without warning,” he said hurriedly. “I didn’t want to discuss it over the phone for obvious reasons. If anything make you uncomfortable--”

“Nah,” Logan waved away Erik’s words. “Nothing I can’t handle. Charles is adorable, by the way--how is _he_ paying _you?_ ”

Erik smirked. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Logan laughed and shook his head. “Damn. This is gonna be so much better than the last time you called me in - Remember that redheaded lady? The one who wanted us both to piss all over her?”

Right then, Charles walked out of the bathroom and heard the end of Logan’s sentence. He stopped and looked at them with wide eyes. “She wanted _what_?”

“Nothing to do with you, pet,” Erik said, approaching Charles and assuming his dominant posture. 

“Okay, but...for the record. I never, ever want you to piss on me. Okay?” Charles actually seemed a little nervous. Erik gave Logan a pointed look before he turned back to Charles. He took Charles’ hands in his two gloved hands.

“I would never,” he said sincerely, “Nor would I let anyone do that to you while you’re in my care...unless I had personally observed you write it on the consent form myself _and_ you told me yourself that you wanted it. Alright?”

Charles looked relieved and nodded. 

“Safe words?”

“Red for stop, yellow for pause.”

“Are you ready?” Erik asked softly.

Looking in his eyes, Charles said, “Yes, sir.”

“Blindfold,” Erik said to Logan. Erik's pale green eyes disappeared from Charles’ sight, swallowed by darkness as Logan tied the black silk blindfold in the back of his head. Charles’ clothes disappeared in record speed, and he heard Erik chuckle when Charles’ underwear came off. “Someone prepared for the special occasion,” he heard Erik remark, followed by a casual, “Isn’t he a good boy, Logan?” 

“Very good,” Logan agreed. Charles had been thinking a lot about the candle wax and where he thought it would feel good and had (wisely) decided it wasn’t so compatible with hair, so he had shaved his pubic area, including his balls and asshole - because Charles was nothing if not thorough.

“Thought it would be good for the wax,” he said breathlessly to Erik. Or Logan; whoever was helping him out of his pants at that moment. 

He felt a hand stroked at his penis, just petting it, and Charles gasped in surprise, even though that very likelihood had been discussed not five minutes before. What had been half an erection was rapidly rising to full-mast. 

“Walk over here,” Erik murmured, and Charles was led a few feet away, in the direction he thought the bed was. “Step up.” Charles lifted his foot and while at the same time a hand on his head--Erik’s, he thought--kept it ducked so he didn’t hit his forehead on the upper rail. The bed mattress was gone, but there was what felt like a sturdy wooden platform under his feet. 

Unseen hands raised his arms and rested them on the thick upper rails of the frame above the bed, which was just a slight angle up for him. 

“Wrists and arms first,” Erik murmured, surprisingly close to his ear. Charles felt his forearm getting wrapped in rope. 

It took several minutes, and Charles did indeed feel that his arousal was flagging a bit when he felt hands stroking his back and ass. 

“How you doin’?” Logan murmured. “You are very sexy, you know that?” His hands started coming up the inside of Charles’ thighs, slowly, stroking and edging closer to his cock on every pass, but not quite getting there. 

“There is a guy I know who keeps telling me things like that,” Charles admitted, his breath hitching. 

“He does, hmm? What else does he tell you?”

Logan’s hands were hypnotic, now stroking his ass, fingers nudging closer to his crack on every pass. 

“He tells me that I’m a good boy,” Charles said. He wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying, the words were just coming out of him. “Unless I’m being bad.”

“You, a bad boy? I don’t believe it,” Logan in a low, thick voice. Now he was stroking Charles’ chest and rubbing his nipples on every pass, sometimes tugging on them. A whimper escaped Charles’ lips.

“Oh, he can definitely be a bad boy,” Erik said. He had finished with Charles’ right wrist, which was now hanging under the rail, and had crossed Charles to work on his left wrist. “Tell him, pet. Tell Logan how naughty you were on Sunday.”

“What did you do that was naughty?” Logan whispered. “Tell me.”

“I touched what I wasn’t supposed to,” Charles whispered. He was aching for the promised hand on his cock. Although, if the goal was just to keep him aroused, they were doing a pretty damn good job of it. 

He heard some low whispers - almost certainly heard the word ‘nipples’ and Erik say, ‘not yet.’

“How do your wrists feel, Charles?” Erik asked. 

The ropes were soft, and it seemed like his forearms were almost covered in them. When he tugged directly downward, it felt like the pressure was equally distributed over his entire forearm. “Good,” he said. “Secure.”

There were a few more whispers, and then Erik’s face was close to his ear. “We’re going to put some oil on your upper thighs to prevent chafing, alright my lo--pet?”

Charles nodded, distracted by wondering which word Erik had started to say, then gasped as he felt what was undeniably _Erik’s_ hand on his cock for the first time. 

“And how’s your cock?” Erik’s voice in his ear, breathy and hypnotic, as Erik’s gloved hand stroked Charles’ erect penis. 

“Better now,” Charles said, clearing his throat immediately after as his voice thickened. 

Erik chuckled and gave Charles’ cock a last squeeze before Charles felt four hands rubbing oil on his upper and inner thighs, and around the outside of his hips--

“We can oil his ass, too, right?” Logan said, the question directed as Erik but the teasing tone meant for Charles. 

“Definitely,” Erik responded in the same tone, and Charles as slick hands stroked his ass and one slid down his hairless crack, across his perineum, over his balls and up his cock. 

He realized he was making a keening sound when Logan said, “Everything still good, sweetheart?” with a touch of actual worry in his voice. 

“Uh-huh,” Charles managed, nodding. He felt ropes start winding themselves around his upper thighs. The hand that had rubbed oil on his cock was playing with his balls, running slick fingers over them again and again. 

His throat felt unbearably dry, and even though he was loathe to ruin the mood, it was getting to be a distraction. “Yellow?” he croaked hesitantly. 

All hands stopped. “What can I do for you?” Erik asked in a very normal voice. Not annoyed, not panicked...just like someone pressed the pause button on the game. 

“Um, water? Sorry…”

Charles heard footsteps moving away and Logan’s voice nearby say soothingly, “Nothing to apologize for. You gotta stay hydrated.”

Erik came back very quickly. “Here’s a straw,” his voice murmured. Charles opened his mouth and sucked gratefully at the liquid. 

“Thank you,” he said when he’d had a few sips’ worth. He didn’t want to overdo it and fill his bladder. 

“Not a problem,” Erik said smoothly. “I’ll keep this nearby; if you feel thirsty again, just ask.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles said. 

He would have sworn he heard Erik smile at that. “Ready to continue, pet?”

“Yes, sir!”

Someone slapped his ass, hard enough to be a surprise but not hard enough to hurt, and Charles gasped. 

The ropes continued winding around him, now around his hips. The hands stroking him resumed, but not on his cock. The gloved hands, now free of oil somehow, stroked his chest and pulled at his nipples until he whimpered and squirmed. 

“I need him to be a little more still than that,” Charles heard Erik say mildly from somewhere in the vicinity of his hip. “Just for few more minutes.”

“Hmm, what will feel good, but make you hold still?” Logan mused. 

“Nipple clamps?” said Charles hopefully.

“Hmm, I don’t know...will you be able to hold still?”

“Yes,” Charles said fervently. “Please, I’ll be really good.”

Charles felt fingers clench in his hair and he made a soft sound of satisfaction. 

“What do you think, Erik? Has our boy been good enough for nipple clamps?” Logan moved Charles head around by his hair, gently, controlling but not forcing. 

“He _has_ been very good,” Erik said thoughtfully, fondling Charles’ balls. 

Charles let out a small moan but he was absolutely, perfectly still. 

“Go get them,” Erik directed Logan, as he kept knotting until Logan came back. At least that’s what Charles assumed he was doing, as his body was being moved in small jerks. 

Erik moved to his other hip just before Logan returned. “I’m back,” he said unnecessarily, as Charles felt his gloved hands stroking his chest and teasing his nipples. He held his breath as Logan removed his hands for a moment, feeling a rush of anxiety - what if Logan did it too hard? When he heard Erik say softly, “Allow me,” and then felt both nipples get clamped simultaneously.

“Oh god fuck yes,” he cried out at the dizzying rush of pain/pleasure, but he didn’t move, didn’t want to interfere with Erik’s artwork.

He was rewarded by Erik breathing, “So, so good,” into his ear and nuzzling his neck. 

Someone tugged lightly on the chain that dangled between the two nipple clamps and Charles was moaning loudly again. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” Logan said, a frank sound of appreciation, followed by a slight chuckle. “Are you sure we shouldn’t gag him? Might get hard to concentrate with all this noise, especially once we start the tantric stuff.”

“Start?” Charles gasped. _They hadn’t started the tantric stuff yet?_

Both of them chuckled at that, and Charles felt a small pinch of something unpleasant, being laughed at, a little embarrassed. 

“You’re amazing,” Erik reassured him quickly, stroking his back and down his ass. He seemed to always know exactly what Charles needed to hear; how did he do that?

“May I have some water, sir?” said Charles, and the straw was presented to him. 

“Charles, the next few minutes will be the hardest, okay?” Erik murmured to him. “Should be an easy glide after this, but right now I have your hips and thighs bound and I need to get these ropes from your hips tied the railings. Logan is going to hold you up, but it will help if you can put your feet on the railings and put some of the weight on there. And as much as you can put on your forearms will help, too.” 

“I don’t know if my legs will spread wide enough to reach the railings,” Charles said doubtfully. 

“They will,” Erik assured him. “You will feel very spread-out, though. You’ll feel very vulnerable. But you trust me, right, Charles?”

“Yes,” Charles agreed. He was a little nervous but he trusted Erik. 

He heard some muttering nearby as Erik and Logan discussed the best way to get him actually suspended. Charles began to feel more nervous as seconds ticked by and nobody interacted with him. He started to feel a little panicky but he told himself he was being stupid, he could hear their voices, they were right there...

Then Erik was there, standing behind him, one arm wrapped around Charles' torso and one stroking Charles' hair. 

"It's okay, I'm here," Erik murmured...like he _knew_ that Charles has been missing being touched, that he knew Charles was on the verge of panicking. 

"How do you always know?" Charles said, rolling his head back against Erik, trying to be in contact with the man as much as possible. 

Erik was petting Charles, nothing painful or even sexual, just stroking his chest and stomach and bound hips. "You're a very good communicator," Erik murmured against his ear. "Your body tells me everything before your mouth does."

"So you _could_ gag me," Charles said, with a little smile. 

"Feeling better already, are you?" Erik said lightly, a smile in his voice, as he pet Charles' penis. 

Charles made a little sound in the back of his throat. "Yes, sir. The touching helps a lot."

"Logan and I have worked out how we're going to do this," Erik said, letting his fingers drift up and trace the chain that dangled between Charles' nipples, although he did not tug on it. "We need to remove the platform you are standing on and replace it with a chair. I'm going to lift you around your thighs and then set you back down. Are you ready?"

Charles was just pleased to have so much contact with Erik. "Yes, sir."

Erik wrapped his arms around Charles and lifted vertically, while Charles did his best to put some of his weight on his bound forearms, tied to the bed frame, so he wouldn't be quite so heavy for Erik. He heard Logan grunting and some metal clanging noises, and less than a minute later he was being lowered again. 

"Good, you are doing so well," Erik said, still standing behind him. "This part will require some more from you, though. Both physically and mentally. Are you up to it?"

Charles was scared but excited. "Yes, sir, I can do it."

"You are going to be at an angle, but essentially face-down. Your first and hips will be higher than your head but that is temporary. Logan is going to lift you from your hips while I put your feet on the railings. If you can put some of your weight on your forearms and some on your feet that will help Logan. That's the physical part, alright?"

"Alright," Charles agreed breathlessly. 

"The mental part is you need to tell me how much you want me to fuck you while you're doing it."

Charles' jaw dropped. "I can't do that!"

"Can't, Charles? You just told me you could." Erik's hand had wrapped around Charles’ body and was now lazily stroking his cock. "Don't you want to be a good boy for me?"

"I'm just - that will be hard..." Charles said doubtfully. Erik's hand on his cock felt so fucking good...

"I need you to be hard," Erik said seriously. "Neither of us will be able to spare a hand for the next minutes, but I promise you, it will be worth it."

Charles shivered. "Okay. I'll do it--I'll tell you how much I want you to fuck me."

"Very good," Erik breathed again Charles' ear. 

"What if I break your rules?" Charles said suddenly. "I mean when I'm talking."

"There's nothing you can say that I don't want to hear, Charles," Erik said, and Charles suddenly realized that Erik's erection was pressing into his ass from behind, through Erik's pants. 

Erik was still stroking Charles' cock, but he would have to stop soon, Charles knew. 

"You start, pet," Erik said. "Tell me your fantasies."

Charles licked his lips. "You have me tied up," he started. "I'm naked and hogtied and my ass is in the air and you've flogged me and I'm begging you for your cock, not for my mouth, but for my ass."

Charles felt pressure on his hip bones as he was lifted in the air by Logan.

"Yes, you naughty boy, keep going," Erik said, from somewhere below and behind Charles. 

"You've put oil on me, like today, but your fingers keep stroking my asshole and even though you've told me it's against your rules I beg you to put in just a finger, even just the tip, just one finger."

Charles felt Erik's hands on his ankles, lifting his feet in the air, higher than his head. He tried to put some weight on his forearms to help Logan out as Erik had explained. The words tumbled out of him unfiltered as he tried to do what Erik told him to.

"And you laugh and tell me I haven't earned it and I beg you again anyway and you say I have to promise to come serve you every night, to come suck your cock under your covers to put you to sleep at night and stay there with you every night until the morning."

Charles' babbling was stream of consciousness; he wasn't even sure it was making sense anymore. 

Erik put Charles' feet on the railings. Since he was essentially face-down, it was necessarily the top of his feet that rested against the railings, but it seemed like Erik had thoughtfully strapped some pillows to the railings so it wasn't as uncomfortable as it might have been. 

"You are such a naughty boy, to be willing to promise me something like that," Erik said, even as he had moved down the railing and Charles could feel the ropes at his right hip being tugged slightly, enough to indicate Erik was knotting. "Does it work? Would I put even the tip of my finger in you, in exchange for that?"

Charles was glad Erik had been following his narrative, because it was becoming harder for him to do so. "You say you will, but only after I agree to swallow your cum every night too."

"Sounds like you drive a hard bargain, Erik," Logan murmured. Charles thought there might be a smile in his voice. He suddenly felt self-conscious - he'd almost forgotten Logan was there for a moment, which was ridiculous, because Logan was holding up his hips. 

"Logan," Erik said, "What would you like to do to Charles?" He sounded more distracted than before, having just moved to Charles' right hip. 

"I'd really like to suck his cock right now, if that wasn't against your rules," Logan said. Charles gasped because Logan sounded serious. 

Charles' cock must be the center of Logan's line-of-sight, Charles thought, since Logan had the balls of his hands on Charles' hipbones and was holding him up in the air from there. "Do you suck cock? I thought you were straight." He'd mentioned a woman in his life earlier, hadn't he?

Logan snorted. "Straight-ish. I love sucking cock when my mistress orders me to, though."

"Oh, wow," Charles breathed, "Is this a--lifestyle for you? Are you a full time sub?"

"I don't mind the chatting," Erik said, with a stern thread in his voice, "As long as everyone is still aroused. Well, as long as Charles is still aroused."

"I’m definitely turned on," Charles assured Erik. 

“I can vouch for that,” Logan said below his hips. “I’m staring at the proof. But to answer your question, yeah, sorta. In public we act like everyone else--well, not at the bondage club, but that's sorta not public--but anyway, at home, I live as her sub."

"Would you suck Charles' cock if Anne-Marie ordered you to?" Erik said, sounding still distracted. It was clear to Charles that Erik needed to focus on tying knots right now but that it was important to him that Charles remain aroused. Charles could feel his body being moved in the tiny jerks that meant Erik was knotting.

"Absolutely," Logan said. "It's a pretty nice-looking cock. Bet it would fit in my mouth real good."

"What else would it give you great pleasure to do to Charles--if your Mistress ordered it?" Erik seemed to be finished knotting, but he was still moving around a lot and seemed distracted.

"I'd eat his ass," Logan said promptly. "I mean, damn, that’s a nices ass. All round and hairless...fuck, even without Mistress ordering me, I kinda wanna stick my tongue in there and wiggle it and make him squirm."

Charles definitely still had an erection. 

"Logan, slowly let go of his hips," Erik directed. Charles felt the pressure redistributing, and instead of coming from his hipbones below, it was coming from the ropes across his hips, and pulling his thighs apart, keeping them open.

Charles made a moaning sound, trying to roll his hips a little, trying vainly to have a little modesty, to not let the ropes mercilessly hold him open in front of these two sexy men...

"...Charles? Everything okay?"

Charles squinted as his blindfold was lifted and Erik's concerned eyes swam into focus. "What?" he said. 

"You didn't respond when I said your name, I needed to make sure you are alright," Erik said. 

"I'm better than alright; I'm amazing," Charles said. And since he had no shame left, he said, "Please, touch my cock.'

Erik gave him a slow smile and lowered the blindfold back into place. "I still need to secure your feet, if you want me to finish the job?"

"Finish the job. Finish the handjob. Finish the blowjob."

Charles' mouth had a mind of its own. 

"Will I be an acceptable substitute?" Logan spoke just as Charles felt him grasp his aching cock, _finally._

"Oh fuck, jesus, yes, acceptable. But not as acceptable as Erik." Charles laughed a little, remembering how he had said the same thing to Erik.

Logan snorted. "I'll take it." His hand moved on Charles' cock with the practice of someone who knew exactly how to handle a cock. Charles wondered what 'straight-ish' meant, anyway.

Charles felt a little like he might be high. Erik was doing something behind him with his lower legs, tying them up, and Logan was stroking his cock and it felt amazingly good.

"Charles," Erik's voice came out of the air behind him. "Pretend an orgasm is a ten on a scale from when to ten. When you reach eight, tell Logan to stop."

"What?" gasped Charles. Surely this was the cruelest thing Erik could ask of him. 

"He's got a point," Logan said, his gloved hand still gliding so deliciously over Charles' cock. "Once you come, this all stops being fun for you really fast."

Charles whimpered. "Tug on my nipple chain," he whispered to Logan. 

Logan was obviously amused. "I never would have pegged you as a bossy sub," he said, but obligingly he tugged on Charles' nipple chain.

"What number are you, Charles? How close to orgasm?" Erik's voice embodied command. It brooked no evasion.

"Six," Charles whimpered. 

"Keep going, Logan, but you can ease off a bit."

"Oh fuck," Charles whined, "I want to come."

"Not yet," Logan said. "Be good, you'll be glad you waited."

"Unngghh, eight, I'm at eight," Charles yelled, missing the hand on his cock as soon as it disappeared. He almost wanted to cry.

"I'm not a bossy sub," he said petulantly. "I just want to come."

"That is not an option right now," Erik said sternly. He had moved onto Charles' other leg and was wrapping it with ropes. "You come at my discretion, remember?"

"I thought this was about what I want," Charles said. Was he playing or not? He wasn't sure himself. He was so turned on it was clouding his mind. 

"If you want to stop, you say your safeword," Erik said. "But that's not the same as coming." Erik finished what he was doing at Charles leg and came forward to his face and wound a hand into his hair. "You're being a very naughty boy, Charles. Do you need to be punished?"

"Yes, please, punish me," Charles whined. "Fuck me in the ass. Treat me like a whore. Please, I'm begging you!"

"That's not really a punishment, is it?" Erik said softly. "Not for you. Not when you want my cock in your ass so badly you're willing to swallow my cum every night for eternity to get it once."

Erik's words were like liquid fire. Charles writhed in arousal so keen it was almost painful.

"I think a more appropriate punishment would be pouring hot wax on you, don't you agree?"

Charles' mouth fell open. "I forgot about that! Yes, please, oh fuck yes, I want that."

"Soon, my pet," Erik murmured. “But first…”

Charles felt his Erik's hand on his cock then, so obviously different from Logan's even though they were both gloved and it was only a few seconds before he cried out, reluctantly, brokenly, "Eight!"

"I can't," Chrles said, close to tears, "All I can think about is how much I want to come, I can't do this..."

Erik wished he'd been able to do the knotting _and_ be the one stroking Charles' cock; he was afraid Logan had made Charles approach orgasm too quickly. After all, Erik hadn't had time to give either of them proper instruction, and he was the one with tantric experience. 

Erik rested his forehead against Charles'. He was sweating; they both were. Erik had never felt so torn by a client's suffering. "Charles," he said seriously, "If you want to come right now, I will do it. I will make you come. But then you'll be done and you'll want me to cut you down, and you'll go home, and you won't get to feel that hot wax dripping on your ass cheeks and the backs of your balls." Erik made eye contact with Logan, whose worried expression mirrored what Erik was feeling. 

Charles was silent, his lip quivering. 

"Do you still want that?" Erik asked softly. "You can tell me honestly, Charles. If you're done, please tell me. You don't need to prove anything to me. I'm proud of you for all you've accomplished today already."

Charles let out a loud sob at that and Erik stroked his back as he sobbed more. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said and sniffed loudly. "I didn't mean - what you said - " he sniffed more and continued crying softly. 

Erik just held Charles, as best he could while the other man was bound hand and foot, stroking his hair and back. Erik had had clients experience similar breakdowns before. BDSM was cathartic for some people. True, he'd never felt as gripped by this horrible feeling of guilt when it had happened to other clients - concern, certainly, but not the agony of feeling like he'd hurt someone he cared about. 

Erik resolved to put those confusing feelings on a back shelf for later review. He was expecting a safeword any moment, but it still hadn't come. Erik had been very conscientious about his knots, but surely the bondage had to be getting uncomfortable by now, especially if Charles wasn't aroused anymore. 

"Is there anything I can for you?" he asked Charles, thinking that might prompt the safeword if Charles was in fact done. It didn't have to be a literal safeword; if Charles said 'I'm done' or 'I want to stop' or anything like that Erik would have treated it as the safeword. In fact, if Erik could safeword himself if he thought it was prudent to do so. 

"Will you kiss me?" Charles asked. 

Erik had to hold himself very, very still, because he had almost kissed Charles instinctively, and this was something he needed to think about. 

He didn't kiss his clients. They rarely wanted to be kissed. He only rarely allowed even flesh-to-flesh contact. Kissing Charles went against all his rules, and the principles behind those rules, but for a moment he didn't think he'd ever wanted anything as bad as he wanted to kiss Charles right then. 

But, control. Compromise was control. "I will kiss you before you leave today," he whispered to Charles' mouth, his beautiful, kissable mouth. 

Charles seemed surprised. "You will? Promise?"

"I promise," he said. "But what do you want right now? Do you want to stop?"

Charles shook his head resolutely. "No."

Erik and Logan exchanged glances. Charles' cock was barely erect at all anymore, unsurprisingly, after that breakdown. "You're not in pain?" Erik asked cautiously. 

"Well, no, not really. I mean I feel the ropes, I still feel very...spread out...but I like it."

His cock was not hard, though. Erik looked at Logan again, thinking, absentmindedly stroking Charles' back. 

"Maybe Charles would like to see what he looks like?" Logan suggested. "He looks pretty fucking incredible."

"I do?" Charles asked shyly.

"You're a work of art," Erik said honestly. "Logan, will you get that mirror?" He gestured towards a large framed mirror hanging on the wall. Erik made his touches on Charles' back more deliberate, longer strokes that ended on Charles' ass, going over ropes to get there. 

"Actually, let's put the platform back, too," Erik murmured to Logan. "We’ll put the mirror flat on that; it will be closer and better lighting for Charles to see by."

Charles heard the sounds of things moving into place, felt the bed frame vibrate a couple times and then a loud clang as he assumed the wooden platform was put back in place. 

"Are you ready to see yourself, Charles?"

"Yes, sir," Charles breathed, and then found himself blinking at the too-bright light when the blindfold was removed. He looked down and the first thing he noticed about the reflection of himself was how colorful the ropes were. All the colors of the rainbow, covering his forearms, his upper thighs, across his hips, and around his calves. His body was at about a forty-five degree angle, with his head and shoulders higher than his hips and feet. His legs were spread obscenely wide in what looked to be about a ninety-degree angle from each other. The chain from the nipple clamps dangled down in an upside-down arc between his clamped nipples. 

"What do you think?" Erik asked, from behind Charles and between his legs. With the platform in place it was easy for him to stroke Charles' ass and legs and he was doing exactly that. 

"I think it's pretty obvious his cock likes it," Logan said with a smirk. Charles could see and feel his cock expanding as he gazed at himself, at Erik’s handiwork.

"It's amazing," Charles breathlessly. "You are amazing, Erik!"

Erik hummed and kept stroking Charles' ass. He gave it a few test pats and watched it bounce back appreciatively.

"I could be more spread out, though," Charles said thoughtfully.

Logan snorted. Erik paused. "You could, could you?" he said softly. 

"Yes...I like feeling...stretched. Immobile. I can still actually move quite a bit like this." Charles demonstrated, moving his forearms back and forth and bending his knees to show how much play he had. 

"You heard the man, Dr. Frankenstein," Logan said to Erik, a note of amusement in his voice. "He wants to feel immobile."

"Cheeky boy," Erik said sternly, but there wasn't much heat in it. "Hasn't anyone ever told you to be careful what you wish for?"

Charles grinned as Erik slid the blindfold back into place. 

Then Charles felt his arms getting pulled straight out farther and farther out, slowly but insistently, until he could not put weight on them anymore - but he realized he didn’t have to, because of the way Erik had tied his hips to the bed frame."Good?" Erik's voice asked softly. 

"Uh-huh, I mean, yes sir," Charles said, as a hand that had to have been Logan's stroked his chest and his penis in a very non-insistent way. Then he felt more ropes, securing his arms in their new stretched position.

His arms were definitely immobile. 

Logan played with the chain on his nipples lightly and Charles realized he was moaning softly. His hips were moving of their own accord, trying to thrust at the tantalizingly light touch that kept appearing and disappearing. 

"It's like I put new batteries in my toy," Erik observed in a low, sexy voice. "Let's see if we can immobilize those hips a little bit more, hmm?"

Charles felt his hips raise as additional ropes were added and pulled taut. He still felt hands on his the whole time, hands that touched him everywhere but didn't insist or demand; hands that stroked his cock but only briefly. 

"Oh my god," Charles whimpered, over and over, as his legs were stretched even a bit wider and his legs re-tied in that wider position. He felt like he was floating; he loved every sensation but there was still a part of him reaching for more, something between an itch and an ache. 

"Now what do we have here?" Erik whispered, from directly behind him, between his legs. "It looks like someone is completely helpless and at my mercy."

"Oh fuck, yes," Charles moaned. He tested the ropes and found he could only move the tiniest bit. He could only imagine what Erik was seeing - his ass spread wide, his hairless crack, his balls tight with arousal and his cock hanging heavily down. 

"Gives me ideas," Erik continued, almost casually, as he started to rub oil onto the skin of Charles' ass, again, his fingers gliding around the curve of his ass and towards his crack but not quite touching Charles' pucker. 

Charles only moaned in response. Erik hummed in satisfaction. He put more oil onto his gloves and stroked it onto Charles perineum and over his balls before wrapping his slick hand around Charles' cock. 

"Oh, fuck me, please fuck me, finger me, anything, just put something in my ass," Charles whined desperately. 

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you beg so beautifully, my pet," Erik said. "But I have something else in mind."

Erik mimed what he wanted Logan to do, and Logan quietly went about retrieving the items Erik wanted. In the meantime, Erik couldn't help but trace Charles' rim with his slick gloved finger. He watched, fascinated, as the ring of muscle flexed, craving what Erik wanted to do but wouldn't let himself. 

"Oh, please, fuck," Charles yelled.

"Just the tip, do you remember saying that, pet?" Erik crooned. "A lifetime of swallowing my cum if I just put the tip of my finger in. I wonder if you would still honor that?"

"Hell yes," Charles gasped. "Anything you want, I mean it..."

He didn't mean it, thought Erik, but that was all right, because Logan had returned with the lit tealight. 

"Are you ready for your treat?" Erik said.

"Please, god, yes," Charles groaned. 

From about a foot up, Erik let a few drops of the hot liquid wax fall onto Charles' ass cheek. 

Charles went absolutely still and held his breath for a moment. "Was that...?"

"It wasn't my come, if that's what you're asking," Erik said, deciding it was time to give Charles' cock another stroke. "Did you like it?"

"Yes! It felt hot, but it barely hurt at all."

With as aroused as Charles was, no, it probably hadn't hurt, Erik reflected. He poured a little bit more on Charles' other ass cheek from slightly lower. A longer distance gave the wax more time to cool off mid-fall, so shortening the distance should make the wax feel hotter. 

"Oh my god, more, everywhere," Charles moaned. 

"You are such a good toy," Erik marvelled as he poured a generous amount over Charles' right buttock and watched the wax roll towards his crack but not quite reach it. "So fun to play with."

He poured a little more wax over Charles' left buttock and Charles cried out, "Fuck yes, fuck..."

Charles was breathing heavily and Erik sensed that no matter how much of a trooper Charles was, he needed to wrap this up soon. "You've been such a good boy today, Charles. I'm going to make you come now. Is there anything else you want?"

"I want to look at you," Charles gasped, "while I come."

Erik hummed disapprovingly. "Is that how you ask your Dom for a favor?"

"Please, sir, may I look at you while you jerk me off?" Charles asked desperately. 

"...Are you begging?"

"I'm begging you, please, want to see you..." Charles was fading into incoherency again and Erik quickly motioned to Logan for him to take Erik's place. 

Erik moved in front of Charles and took the bound man's cock in his hand. Charles was still blindfolded, but his head jerked up and he gasped. Fortunately, Erik's head was to the side of Charles', so he didn't get hit when Charles jerked his head up. Erik was giving quiet instructions to Logan about the candle wax as he lazily stroked Charles' penis.

"Are you ready, my pet?"

"So ready," Charles breathed. Erik removed the blindfold. 

Considering the angle Charles' body was at, Erik had to stand close to him to be able to jerk him off, and he found himself taking in Charles' face in great detail--his flushed cheeks, the few freckles on his nose, his ridiculously red lips that he kept biting. 

And of course, the blue eyes that seemed as captivated by Erik's appearance as he was by Charles. 

"Please," Charles breathed, eyes closing momentarily in pained ecstasy as Logan poured some candle wax on the back of his balls, "Will you tell me...that I'm your...ssss..."

"My slut?" Erik whispered, his hand moving more rapidly on Charles' cock now. "Do you want to be my slut, Charles?" 

A flicker of a smile crossed Charles' lips. "Just...yours." His head fell...he was probably exhausted from holding it up, Erik thought. So Erik did it instead, cupping Charles' face with his hand. Charles' eyes were mostly closed and he was making small whimpering noises; he was definitely close to coming.

"Look at me," Erik commanded softly. Charles eyes fluttered open and locked with Erik's. "You are mine," Erik said firmly, possessively, the words curling inside him and feeling so right, too right. His hand was still holding Charles' head up. "You belong to me. You are my favorite toy, my cherished pet. You are my submissive. Tell me."

"I'm yours," Charles breathed, his blue eyes impossibly wide and unfocused. "I belong to...you..." The last word was stretched as Charles started coming, his eyes still locked with Erik's, his jaw slack. Erik gave Logan a sign and Logan poured the rest of the wax in the tealight he was holding right down the crack of Charles' ass, covering his asshole and the back of his balls in hot candle wax. 

Charles screamed hoarsely and ejaculated into Erik's hand and onto his shirt, his body nearly convulsing. "Oh god," Charles cried out brokenly. "I have to...get down..."

Well, that was fast, but not completely unexpected. At Erik's beckon, Logan moved underneath Charles and held him up while Erik took the kitchen shears he had been keeping in a pants pocket for this very reason out and started methodically cutting through the ropes that were keeping Charles suspended on the bed frame. He did it in backwards order from how he'd tied him up; legs first, then hips, then arms. He moved quickly but precisely and it was only about a minute and a half until Logan could lower Charles--still with wrists, thighs, and calves wrapped in ropes--and carry him to the futon pad (that normally served as the mattress of the bed) laid out nearby for this very purpose. 

"Nipples," Charles whimpered, lying on his back on the futon pad. He was still wearing the nipple clamps on the chain. Erik quickly went to the far side of his body, as Logan was on the near side. 

"Oh three?" Erik said, making eye contact with Logan. "One, two--" 

On three, they simultaneously released Charles' nipples from the clamps and applied pressure from their opposite hands as Charles choked out a pained "Fuck!" 

With his free hand, Erik stroked Charles' forehead. "How are you doing?" he asked softly. 

Charles hummed, still deep in subspace, his eyes closed. "Nipples hurt."

"They'll feel better soon," Erik said reassuringly. That wasn't a surprise; the clamps had been on a long time. Erik thought he probably should have taken them off sooner. "Do you want any water?"

Charles nodded sleepily. Logan, being closer to the bed, retrieved the water bottle with the straw in it from which Charles had been drinking earlier. After he was done drinking, Charles curled towards Erik. Logan raised an eyebrow at Erik over Charles' body.

"I need to go talk to Logan for a few minutes, okay?" Erik whispered into to Charles' hair. "But I'll be right back to get you out of the rest of the ropes and clean you up."

Charles, still with his eyes closed, frowned a little but nodded. Erik stroked his hair a few times before he motioned for Logan to join him in the hall.

Erik counted out to Logan the amount they'd agreed upon in cash in the hallway. "Please be sure to thank Anne-Marie for letting me borrow you," Erik said with a smile. "And thank you for being flexible."

"Hey, anytime, especially if your clients are all like him," Logan said. "Do you know, he was mumbling 'thank you' to me, the whole time I was carrying him to the futon pad?"

Erik smiled fondly. "He's sweet."

"I think he might want to be more than a client to you, you know," Logan said, deceptively casually. 

Erik didn't respond for a moment; he just looked away. "You've known me a long time, Logan," he said finally. "You know I'm not fit for human consumption." He said it with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Okay, bub," Logan said after a moment in a tone that indicated he didn't believe Erik for a second but wasn't going to push it. "Anyway, thanks for this, and let's not make it another year before we see each other again, huh?" He clapped Erik on the shoulder and was gone. 

Had it really been a year since he'd last seen Logan and Anne-Marie? _I really am unfit for human consumption,_ Erik thought, as he walked back into his studio. It was a thought he had often, the words chasing themselves around in his head when he contemplated being social or having relationships. 

Charles was still on his side on the futon pad, his eyes closed, limbs still adorned with colorful ropes. Erik went to his side and sat down. "Still good?" He murmured, stroking Charles' shoulder. 

"Better, now that you're here," Charles responded and tugged Erik until he lay down next to Charles. 

“I’m sorry about...crying,” Charles said quietly after a moment, and Erik had the impression he’d been working up his nerve to address the matter. “I wasn’t sad or hurt, but--it’s hard to explain. You must think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t,” Erik assured him firmly. “That was an extremely intense experience, and it can be cathartic. I hope I responded appropriately, and I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“Yes to both,” Charles whispered, and he seemed to relax minutely after that. 

Erik thought Charles might be falling asleep when Charles said, "So Logan and his girlfriend have a 24/7 dom-sub relationship?"

Erik hesitated before answering. "Is that what Logan told you?" He didn't remember that being discussed, but he had been admittedly distracted. 

"He said not in public, but everywhere else," Charles said. He was quiet for a moment, thinking of the things Logan had said. "I don't think I could do that. Not all the time.”

"Me neither," said Erik, stretching. He was thinking about how he should get Charles out of those ropes soon so he was caught off-guard when Charles was looking at him in surprise. "What?"

"Well, I mean, you're a professional. I guess I thought it was a lifestyle for you. I imagined you had two or three submissives at home."

Erik laughed out loud before he thought better of it but Charles was grinning at him, pleased. "No," Erik said when his laughter subsided. He still felt pleasantly amused and affectionate. "I don't have any subs at home." He supposed it would have been funnier if Charles had ever seen the size of his apartment. 

“You look--so different when you laugh,” Charles said. There was a softness to his eyes that both drew Erik in and scared him. 

"I'm going to start getting you out of these ropes, okay?" Erik said, walking over to get his garden shears. "They can't be comfortable."

"Well, they are more comfortable than the wax in the crack of my ass," Charles said with a smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners. 

"Oh shit, that's right." Erik had retrieved the shears and was at Charles' feet, cutting the ropes off his calves. "Was that too much, right when you were coming?"

"Are you kidding? It was fucking perfect," Charles answered, letting his head drop back onto the futon pad. "You're perfect."

"I'm not," Erik said, flatly, moving onto the other leg. 

Charles sighed. It was not a happy sigh as much as it was a sigh of frustration. Erik did not meet his eyes, focused on cutting off the remaining ropes. 

It was a few minutes before he finished, and there were rope fragments in every color of the rainbow scattered around Erik’s studio. “That’s a lot of rope,” Charles commented. 

“About one hundred and eighty feet,” Erik said. “I used six thirty-foot ropes.”

Charles’s eyes widened. “I hope you are charging me for supplies,” he said. 

Erik ran a hand through his hair. “I am, but I wish I didn’t have to,” he admitted. 

There was an awkward silence. “Do you want me to help you get that wax off?” he said to Charles. 

Charles looked at him with eyebrows raised impossibly high. “The wax on my ass and balls?”

“It might be hard for you to reach it all,” Erik said. He felt himself start to get an erection and ignored it as he usually did. 

“Alright,” Charles said softly, and gingerly turned to lay on his stomach - apparently his nipple were still a little sensitive. “I wish I could see it first, though.” Erik had a strict “no pictures / no cameras” policy in his studio so he did not offer to take a picture. 

Some of the wax had flaked off already, either from Charles moving or from the ropes being removed, but quite a bit was still left. Erik had oiled Charles’ skin in advance so removal would be easier, but most of it still took peeling. 

Besides, peeling it was fun. 

Erik started peeling the white wax from the top of Charles’ ass first and worked his way down. He was pleased to see there were only faint red marks under the melted wax, no lasting welts or blisters. 

Charles’ breathing changed as Erik reached the wax bits on Charles’ inner cheeks. Erik peeled carefully, trying not to move methodically as opposed to sensually, but he heard Charles’ muffled voice say after a moment, “This is kind of erotic.”

Erik hummed noncommittally in response. “Can you get up on your knees?” he asked softly. “There’s some - lower.” He meant on Charles’ balls. 

Charles silently pulled his knees up under him, still facing down but now with his ass in the air so that Erik could reach “lower.”

Erik used two hands to peel the wax off here; one to gently manipulate the other man’s testicles so he could get to the remaining wax bits and the other to actually peel off the wax. Charles wasn’t making noise, but his hands were fisted in the sheet on the futon pad under him and he very obviously had an erection.

“I think that’s all of it,” Erik said, in his best ‘this-is-all-routine’ voice.

Charles let out a shaky breath as he turned over, not bothering to hide his erection. “You’re going to to be the death of me, you know that?” 

“Not if you kill me first,” Erik said, smiling softly. 

Charles laughed and shook his head, his eyes sliding down Erik’s body and over the erection that Erik did actually want to hide. Charles stretched. “I can shower again?”

“Of course,” Erik said. 

Charles rolled to his feet and walked over to the open-air shower in the corner. Erik was frozen in surprise - he only used that showers for scenes; nobody had wanted to actually use it to wash before. But Charles seemed to know exactly what he was doing, barely hiding a triumphant smirk because Erik could not take his eyes off of him as he turned on the water. 

Belatedly, Erik realized that Charles needed soap and a towel. He went to the bathroom and approached Charles. “Soap?” he said.

Charles met his eyes for a moment with a look of blatant lust, water streaming down his naked body. It was a clear invitation, and Erik ignored it. He set the soap and towel down nearby and went to wait at Emma’s desk for Charles to be done with his shower, continuing to ignore what was by that point a very uncomfortable erection. 

**

Erik was a little embarrassed to present Charles the bill when he emerged from his shower, again with distractingly sexy wet hair.. Considering the supplies he went through, the fact that he’d hired an extra person there to assist and the fact that the whole session took about five hours, it ended up costing enough that Charles could have bought himself a nice used car instead. 

Charles didn’t bat an eye, though, barely looking at the bill when he handed Erik his credit card and still adding a 25% tip. He was more distracted by looking at his cell phone calendar.

“I was wondering…” Charles said, and his cheeks seemed to flush before he even spoke. Erik had a feeling he knew what was coming. “I understand you don’t date your clients, but would you consider...accompanying me to that bondage club Logan mentioned? I’d pay you for your time,” he added quickly. “Not a date.”

Erik’s chest felt squeezed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t.” He couldn’t bring himself to articulate more about his decline, although he had several good reasons: he only worked out of his own studio, where he could control the variables; he didn’t want to blur the line between professional and social between himself and Charles...and most importantly, if he was willing to admit it to himself, he didn’t want Charles to meet another Dom and realize he didn’t need to pay Erik for what he was doing when he could easily get it for free. Any Dom with an interest in men would drool over the chance to make Charles submit. Especially if they’d seen him like Erik had, tied up, cheeks flushed, begging...

Erik realized he’d been lost in his own mind and Charles was looking at him expectantly; apparently Erik had missed something he’d said. “I’m sorry, what?” Erik asked. 

“May I make an appointment for Friday afternoon?” Charles seemed a little disappointed, but not deterred from seeing Erik again. Erik was happy to make the appointment. 

It was only after Charles left that Erik realized that he had forgotten to give Charles the kiss he’d promised him.


	4. The Hellfire Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles goes to the Hellfire Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning at end (no dub con this chapter!)

“I’m a grown man,” Charles told his reflection in the mirror. “I can do this.” 

_I can go to a bondage club by myself. I’m kinky; I’ve done suspension bondage,_ Charles told himself as he tried on several different outfits, looking for one that said exactly what he wanted to convey about himself, which was...what, exactly?

Charles knew his crush on Erik was getting out of control. The man was incredibly good at his job, but he had made it very clear to Charles that he wasn’t interested in more than a professional relationship. Nevertheless, it was almost like Charles couldn’t think about anything else when he jerked off, which he seemed to be doing all the freakin’ time since he had met Erik. It was like he was fourteen again. It was beginning to feel like a lot of wasted energy. 

Charles knew he was cute. He’d never really had trouble finding a date. He’d also never really dated anyone who was into the kind of things Charles was into, but he had never really tried, had he? So Charles decided to go where the kinky people were, easily found in a Yelp! search once Logan had mentioned it existed: Hellfire Bondage Club. 

And he’d have to go by himself, because who the hell else was going to go with him? His fellow professor, Hank McCoy? Not a chance. Hank thought having sex with the lights on was kinky.

...Probably. Charles and Hank had actually never talked about sex. 

Charles finally realized he was procrastinating. He settled on [a casual black jacket over a white-and-grey striped polo shirt](http://ww1.sinaimg.cn/mw600/752440d4jw1djr3g8eoxoj.jpg). He was probably not dressed to the standards of the club but he still looked good and he knew it - he had always looked younger than his age, which had just started seeming like an advantage for the first time in his life a few months before when he had reached the ancient age of twenty-seven. 

He took a cab to the club. The bouncer, [a large black man with dreadlocks and red contact lenses](http://media.comicbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/bishop-x-men-days-of-future-past.jpg), took one look at him and said, "Nice try, kid."

Charles stood at the door to the club. "Is that a joke?" he said, confused. 

The bouncer gave him a look. "You don't belong here," he said flatly. "There's a frat party down the street."

Charles started to feel angry and was opening his mouth to object when another man walked up. 

"Is there a problem, Bishop?"

The newcomer had not spoken loudly, but his voice had a quiet authority to it that made Charles think the man might be the owner of the club. Charles turned to see [the speaker](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ca/95/4a/ca954a601050cf9dc52ad8e0b625cdd2.jpg) and it was a man who wasn't quite handsome, but who held himself in a way that would make anyone looking at him feel like he was. He was wearing a smoking jacket and cravat. Charles suddenly felt ridiculously underdressed for this club. What had he been thinking?

"There’s no problem, sir," Bishop said, unlatching the red velvet rope across the entrance to let the man in. He started to close it after the man walked in, in front of Charles, but the man in the smoking jacket said, "Oh, he's with me."

"Yes, sir," Bishop said, and held the rope for Charles as if he hadn't been insulting him just thirty seconds earlier. 

Charles hurriedly went inside, where the older man clapped an arm across his shoulder and gave him a smile. "Bishop gets a little overzealous in carrying out his responsibilities sometimes," he said apologetically to Charles. "I mean, you know what this club is, don't you?"

Charles didn't answer because he trying not to gawk at the skimpy outfits on display. There were several women--and at least one man--wearing chain mail bikinis, and many people wearing tight black leather. There were a lot of people wearing collars, many people on leashes, and so many stiletto heels that Charles' feet started to hurt in sympathy. Nobody was dressed like him...but nobody was dressed like the man next to him, either. 

"I thought I did," Charles finally managed to say in response. "I didn't know I'd have to buy a whole new wardrobe, though."

The man laughed and his eyes crinkled. "You dress the way you want. That's what this place is all about. Although, I do think you'd look rather fetching in a collar."

Charles grinned back. He was being flirted with. The man was much older than Charles was used to--Charles guessed he was in his mid-forties--but he was nice and nobody else here seemed remotely approachable. Unfortunately, the man had spotted something or someone else and looked like he was about to walk away. 

"I'm Charles," Charles said quickly. "Thank you for, um, getting me in here. Can I...buy you a drink?"

The man looked at Charles and seemed genuinely surprised and flattered. "Well--I can't say no to that, can I? I'm Sebastian." Sebastian leaned close to Charles' ear. "Just tell the bartender it's for me, he knows what I drink."

Sebastian smelled like Old Spice aftershave. Clean, not unpleasant. Charles gave him his cutest grin and walked to the bar. No, Sebastian was not his type, but he seemed connected, at least - a good person to know. 

Charles went to the bar and ordered two of “Sebastian’s drink.” The bartender’s eyebrows leaped briefly but he set straight to work - and then refused to accept money from Charles. Puzzled, Charles brought Sebastian his drink. 

“He wouldn’t charge me,” Charles said. “I hope he didn’t just add it to your tab.”

Sebastian accepted the drink and waved away the payment situation. He really looked at Charles, all of him, intently, like Charles had 100% of his attention; it made Charles feel a little bit naked. “What brings you out here this evening, Charles?” he said finally. It didn’t seem like a casual question the way he asked it. “Are you meeting someone here?”

“Ahh…” Charles shrugged and took a sip of his drink, the same Sebastian had ordered. It was brown, but other than that he didn’t really know what it was other than strong. “Just looking for a good time.”

“Just a good time,” Sebastian repeated, in an oddly intense way. “You’re on the prowl.”

Charles gave the other man a small grin. “Could be.”

“Well, I hope you find someone to give you that ‘good time’ you’re looking for,” Sebastian said. He seemed - offended? Charles had no idea what he could have said that would have offended him but he definitely got that sense. “If that doesn’t work out, here’s my card.”

Charles accepted the card without really looking at it, because _he_ was feeling a little offended. “So you’re done talking to me?” He said, before he could stop himself. 

Now Sebastian seemed amused. “Charles. You are very cute, but we both know I’m not what you are looking for. I’m not boyfriend material. However, I would be happy to put you on your knees if you ever want a situation with a little less--obligation.”

He smiled politely at Charles and then walked away. Charles looked at the card in his hand which read _Master Sebastian, Professional Dom._

He couldn’t help snorting with amusement. Sebastian was right about that: he did not need a another professional dom in his life. 

And that put Erik in his mind, which is exactly what he was trying to avoid. He finished the rest of the drink in his hand in one slug, which was almost a bad idea, as he barely avoided coughing it out onto a blond girl walking by wearing an outfit made out of black leather straps. He ordered another from the bartender. 

With some liquid courage in him, Charles found being at the Hellfire Club by himself a little less overwhelming. He also started to feel warm and happened to find the coatcheck, so he checked his jacket. He wandered around nursing his drink and feeling less shy about looking at everyone and eventually found the bondage rack. He stared, fascinated, as people were tied or strapped on the big wooden ‘X’ while another person flogged them. Charles thought about Erik bringing him here, tying him up and flogging him here, where everyone could see him…

And that was exactly what he was not supposed to be thinking about. 

“Excuse me,” somebody said, “My mistress would like to know if you would like to be flogged.” Charles looked in surprise at the cute redhead who had spoken to him. She was on a leash, and a few feet behind her was a beautiful woman wearing bright red lipstick who held herself regally, wearing an outfit that looked more sophisticated than sexual. 

“Oh, um, thank you for the offer,” Charles stammered. He had never quite learned how to say ‘You’re not my type’ very well to women - and anyway, he did date women, he just didn’t want - that - with a woman. “But no thank you.”

“Okay,” said the redhead, and started to move away. But since she was the only person besides Sebastian who had spoken to him all night, Charles wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to ask a question. “Sorry, wait, before you go - can you tell me - what’s going on in the back room, behind the red door?”

Charles had noticed that the red door in the back of the club opened and closed frequently and that people were either drawn towards it or seemed repelled by it. He wasn’t sure what he felt about it, but he was definitely curious. 

The girl looked at him with surprise and then looked at her mistress. The mistress spoke. “The rule of thumb is: if you don’t know, then you don’t want to know.” They both smiled and walked away. 

Charles chewed on his fingernail. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about that back room. 

Those women were probably right. Probably he didn’t want to know. 

But what if Erik was back there?

Charles had enough alcohol in his system that he had managed to forget - again - that the point of being at the club tonight was to get Erik off his mind--not to hunt the man down. Charles’ head was buzzing very pleasantly as he walked to the bathroom - the door of which was conveniently close to the red door. There was no bouncer or gatekeeper here; the door was closed but it opened frequently to let people in and out. 

Charles went into the restroom and checked out his reflection. Since he had left his jacket at the coatcheck, the polo by itself with his jeans looked awfully clean-cut. He grimaced at himself and wet his hair and made it look artfully messed up. That was better. He eyed his shirt critically and decided to do it - he ripped the sleeves off. And maybe...he tucked in the bottom hem of the now-sleeveless striped shirt so that at least the only leather he was wearing - his black leather belt - was visible. 

He stepped back and squinted. That would do. In a pinch.

He walked out of the bathroom and without thinking about it too much he opened the red door to the back room and went inside.

Nobody stopped him.

The first thing Charles noticed is that is was hotter back there, and the air seemed thicker; moister; sweatier. He also noticed that while there was music playing it was not near as loud as in the rest of the club. And whereas in most of the rest of the club the lighting was a dim mix of cool colors, blues and whites and purples, the lighting back here was dim and red. 

And, it was crowded. There was a tight circle of people shouting and hollering about something to Charles’ right, but he found himself immediately pressed back by the mass of nearly-naked bodies moving around in the room.

Charles moved further into the room, trying to look like he belonged, trying not to stare at the large and hairy man who was naked in wooden, medieval stocks as an equally large woman slapped him across the face repeatedly while he sobbed, “Thank you, Mommy.”

Charles turned quickly to avoid a man who was covered in something wet - it was hard to identify what that something was, though, because everything looked red in the room’s lighting. 

His quick turn brought him around the back of the tight circle he’d seen to his right when he came in and Charles saw what it was that was engaging everyone’s attention about that circle. 

The floor was lowered in what might have been called a conversation pit a few decades before. In the center of the conversation pit was a woman and a man, back to back, on their knees, both wearing collars and not much else. All four of their hands appeared to be shackled together directly above their heads, secured by a chain that hung from the ceiling. 

The man on his knees was also wearing a black PVC or rubber ‘gimp’ mask that covered up everything except his mouth, which was currently being fucked by a tall bald man, and his cock was erect and straining in [some accessory](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41JW5VWK5PL._SY300_.jpg) that looked like a row of cockrings held together by leather straps. The woman had clothespins on her nipples and [something hooked into each nostril](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41KFXRsgcPL._SY300_.jpg) that pulled them up and back, connected to a strap that went over her head. She had _two_ men’s cocks stuffed into her mouth, and she also had the word “Fuckpig” scrawled across her chest in thick, waxy letters.

Other men surrounded the strange fivesome; one seemed obsessed with slapping the woman’s breasts as hard as he could. It looked like he might have been at it a while; she was covered with red hand marks and bruises already. Another man was flogging the masked male sub so hard it looked like he might actually be bleeding, though it was hard to be sure under the red lighting. Yet another man had his hand between the two kneeling subs’ bodies and seemed to be doing something that Charles couldn’t quite understand - until the tall bald man having his cock sucked shouted “Fuck those bitches harder, I know he can suck better than this!” - and Charles realized that the man between them was roughly shoving back and forth a flexible dildo that had an end in each sub’s ass. 

The people gathered close and watching the spectacle were almost as disturbing to Charles as the scene itself. They were mostly men, and about half of them were jerking off. About a half dozen were kneeling subs, and Charles saw one observer climax into his own hand, throw the ejaculate at the group in the middle of the conversation pit (it hit the male sub’s mask with a wet splatter) and then almost absent-mindedly push his hand in the face of the man kneeling next to him wearing a collar who started to lick his hand clean.

It took Charles about thirty seconds to realize he was done with the back room. 

He turned to leave, only to find a tall man wearing black leather chaps and a black leather vest standing in his way. “Hello, what have we here?” the man said with an unpleasant smile. He had black, shoulder-length hair and very small blue eyes. The most notable feature he had was a vertical scar crossing one side of his face. 

“Excuse me,” Charles said and tried to go around the man, but another man was there, a Latino man with a blank face and smooth skin who stared at Charles impassively. He was wearing the same outfit as his friend, but made out of white leather (or pink? It was hard to be sure under the red lighting.)

“Are you a virgin?” The first man asked. He grasped Charles’ chin with his thumb and forefinger and roughly turned Charles’ head as if he were examining him. “First time in the back room?”

Charles slapped the hand away angrily. “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not? Are you someone’s property?”

“Yes,” Charles said immediately. If that was what they respected, he had no trouble playing along. 

“Really? You’re not wearing a collar. You came here, without your dom, without your collar?” The first man made eye contact with the second as if they were sharing some kind of private joke. 

Charles didn’t know what to say to that, but he began to wish he were somewhere else. 

“I think we should do his dom a favor,” the smooth-faced man said, speaking for the first time. “You know, when puppy dogs misbehave they should be punished right away.” 

Charles was frozen. He was dimly aware of a burst of applause behind him from the vicinity of the conversation pit. 

“Well, it looks like a spot just opened up in the mush pot,” Scarface said with an evil smirk. “Let’s chain him up in there, see how everyone else thinks he should be punished." Azazel reached out to grab Charles.

All he got was a handful of shirt as Charles twisted away. He heard his shirt rip as he ran in the direction he thought the red door was.

He couldn’t get far with the press of bodies around him, but desperation had driven him past politeness so he shoved hard whenever someone was in his way. When he couldn’t get to the red door as quickly as he had hoped he looked over his shoulder and saw that the two men were actually pursuing him. With a burst of adrenaline Charles veered toward another door he saw, quickly entering and shutting it behind him, hoping it was a back door.

It wasn’t a back door. It appeared to be a supply closet, but the was a lock on the doorknob which Charles engaged immediately and prayed that it worked. 

Not five seconds after he entered, someone banged on the door and Charles’ heart skipped a beat when that same someone tried the door knob and it held. Charles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“You have to come out sometime, pretty puppy,” a voice crooned through the door. Charles put his ear against the door cautiously and heard someone say quietly. “Janos. Shaw must have a key; go find him.”

There was light coming in from around the door, enough that Charles could see there was a single lightbulb hanging down with a string next to it. Charles pulled the string and when the light came on, he looked around the closet he was in to see what his resources were, specifically to see if there was anything he could use as a weapon. It wasn’t promising: stacks of paper towels and toilet paper made up the majority of the contents of the closet, but there was also a large box of condoms and a huge blue barrel with a pump dispenser on the top. The barrel was far too big and heavy for Charles to move, unfortunately. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it dispensed.

Charles tried to think, but it was hard because he was still drunk and he was shaking a little bit with nerves in the aftermath of his encounter with the two men. He checked his pockets. He had his identification, a few twenty-dollar bills, and a credit card. He had left his wallet (minus valuables) and his keys in his jacket pockets when he’d checked it, but fortunately he had his phone, because he never was apart from that if he had a choice. 

So he could call someone. Who? Charles had only moved from London about six months before for his new teaching job; Hank was the only person he knew in town, really, and he couldn’t imagine calling Hank at one in the morning for _any_ reason, let alone because he was trapped in the closet at a bondage club. 

The police? Charles really didn’t want to do that. He could only imagine the embarrassment and wasn’t even sure they would do anything about it.

Erik…

Erik would know how to handle himself in a place like this. Erik might even be here, somewhere. Unfortunately, Charles didn’t have Erik’s mobile number; all he had was the number to Erik’s studio. 

“Hey pretty puppy, tell you what: I’ll let you out of here, no mush pot, and all you have to do is suck my cock. What do you think?”

The words were whispered into the door and Charles actually considered it for a moment (he’d sucked a few dozen cocks in his life, after all; what was one more) until he heard the second voice say, “Az, If he believes _that_ , then he deserves everything we’re gonna do to him when we finally get him out of there.”

With shaking fingers, not sure what else to do, Charles called Erik’s studio. 

**

Erik was sprawled on his couch watching the late re-run of The Daily Show when his phone started ringing. He glanced at it and saw that it was someone calling the studio. They’d leave a message; Emma would deal with it tomorrow. 

His phone rang again two minutes later. Erik frowned and looked at his phone. He had a call forwarding system that rang his phone when someone called his studio after hours. Maybe someone had been leaving a message and forgotten some details…?

About five minutes later, his phone rang again. This time Erik answered it. “Who is this?” he demanded.

He heard a gasp on the other end. “Oh my god, it’s you - I - shit, Erik, I’m sorry to call you but I’m--” he broke off with what sounded like a wet laugh, though it could have been a sob.

It was obviously Charles’ voice; Erik recognized it right away. He sat up straight. “Charles? What’s going on?”

“I’m sort of, um, trapped in a closet at the Hellfire Club?” Charles said. He said it like it might be a joke, but there was a tremor in his voice that Erik noticed. “I really didn’t know who else to call.”

“Are you in danger?” Erik asked immediately. He knew exactly what could happen in some of those back rooms, and to someone as sweet and trusting as Charles...

“I have reason to believe so, yes,” Charles said hesitantly. “I went into the back room and…”

Charles was still talking, but Erik had already stood and was grabbing his coat. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, Charles. Tell anyone who asks that you’re my sub.”

“Oh. Oh--okay,” Charles said, relief evident in his voice. 

Erik disconnected the call and grabbed his keys. He paused a second and then dug into a drawer and retrieved a strip of leather with metal snaps on it as well. 

**

Charles kept hoping the men would bore of bothering him, and he was terrified they would find that Shaw they’d mentioned, the person they thought had the key. One of the men, obviously drunk but not any the less scary for that fact, described in great detail what he was going to do to Charles when he got him out and it made the scene in the conversation pit / mush pot Charles had witnessed earlier seem tame. 

“Get out of here, Azazel,” Charles heard what was undeniably Erik’s voice say. 

Charles thought he might be in love with Erik at that moment. 

“I’ve got a sweet piece of ass cornered. Fuck off,” Azazel snarled.

After quite a few thumps and yells, Charles heard Erik say softly, “Charles, it’s me.”

Charles unlocked the door and stood trembling. Both Janos and Azazel were standing back from the door, glaring at Erik. Azazel was holding his jaw, glaring balefully at Erik. 

Erik stepped inside. “Shut and lock the door,” he commanded softly. Charles hurriedly did so. 

“Thank you for coming,” Charles said. “I’m really sorry--”

Erik just shook his head. “I’m going to put a collar on you,” he said. His voice was even, controlled. “It’s the easiest way to get you out of here quickly. Keep your eyes down and play along with what I say. I won’t hurt you.”

Charles nodded quickly and turned around so Erik could fasten the collar around his neck. 

“It’s a little tight,” he admitted, turning back to Erik. 

A strangely pained look crossed Erik’s face. “It was...made for someone else. Can you bear it for a few minutes?”

“Yes,” Charles said. If he didn’t move his neck too much it was fine.

Erik just looked at him for a moment before he took a quick breath in. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to. Address anyone you do speak to as ‘sir’ or ‘mistress’. It’s important that you trust me on this, okay?”

Charles nodded fervently. 

“Unlock the door.”

Charles unlocked the door and felt Erik twist his left arm up and behind him, holding it against Charles’ back. Erik’s right hand was on Charles’ right shoulder. Charles couldn’t help looking to see if Janos and Azazel were still there.

“Eyes down,” Erik snapped and Charles hastily complied. 

Erik pushed him forward and Charles walked forward. 

“You know the rules, Erik,” someone said. “You bring a hot piece back here, you share.”

Erik ignored the voice until someone tried to yank Charles’ chin up - he didn’t see who, because Erik slapped the person’s hand away. 

“Keep your _fucking_ hands off my property,” Erik snapped and the room suddenly went quiet.

Charles kept his head down, but his heart was pounding. 

Nobody spoke for a moment and then a voice Charles recognized said softly, “It’s clear there’s been a misunderstanding. Erik follows his own Rules, don’t you, Erik?”

Erik didn’t respond, just indicated to Charles with pressure on his shoulder that he should move forward. Charles did, trying to place the voice. He thought it was Sebastian, the man he’d met earlier, and he felt grateful to the man for facilitating their escape.

Nobody else intercepted them on their way out, although Charles felt dozens of eyes on him, a feeling that made his skin crawl. Erik guided him to a back door that opened into a dark alley. Erik quickly took the collar off Charles, but his eyes were moving around, looking into the shadows for threats. “I’m parked over here,” he indicated with a jerk of his chin, indicating Charles should go first. 

Erik only relaxed once they were both in his car. He breathed out for a moment and then looked at Charles. “Where to?” he said. His voice was as soft and even as ever.

Charles nervously gave Erik his home address. Erik nodded and started to drive. 

Charles didn’t say anything to Erik for a few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. He felt like he owed Erik an explanation, and definitely at least thanks and an apology, but his tears were threatening when he thought about it and he didn’t want to cry in front of Erik for a second time that week. He decided not to speak until he could trust his voice again.

He couldn’t help but steal glances at Erik. Erik seemed unnaturally calm considering what had just happened. He also seemed to be favoring his right hand, wincing every time he changed gears. 

“Did you hurt your hand?” Charles exclaimed. 

Erik glanced at his hand. “It’s nothing.”

“How did you hurt it?”

Erik glanced at Charles and saw the other man staring at him intently. “I punched Azazel.”

Charles’ jaw dropped but he didn’t know what to say to that. Erik had _punched_ someone for him? 

“Well, he definitely deserved it,” Charles said finally. 

A smile flickered across Erik’s face. “He usually does.”

“So you know him?”

Erik didn’t respond for a moment. “I was expecting to be thanked before I was interrogated.”

Charles gasped. “Oh my god, I haven’t said thank you. Thank you. Erik. From the bottom of my heart. I had no right to expect--” and then that’s when Charles remembered why he hadn’t thanked Erik, as he choked on emotion and tears rolled down his face. “I thought - they were--”

“They didn’t,” Erik said firmly, then said quickly, “...did they?”

“No,” Charles firmly, shaking his head. “Just--words. Horrible words, but I’m fine.”

Charles looked over at Erik. He had relaxed a bit at Charles’ statement, but he was so...closed up, tight, tighter than Charles had ever seen him, even compared to his usual stoic demeanor.

“I’m so sorry that I bothered you at home,” Charles said, because after expressing his gratitude, he knew an apology was in order. “I don’t actually know that many people in New York, and I didn’t who else--”

“Why did you go to the club at all?” Erik asked him, stopping at a red light and finally looking over at Charles. There was something in his voice that surprised Charles - something...hurt?

“Ah. Well.” How did Charles say, ‘because you are hopelessly unattainable and I can’t stop thinking about you and it needs to stop before I go crazy so I was looking for a potential partner to get my mind off you’? “I just wanted to--meet people. People--like me.”

Erik didn’t seem very happy with that answer, pressing on the gas a little harder than was strictly necessary as the light turned green. 

“This is me,” Charles said, a bit regretfully as they pulled up in front of his home. 

“This--house? You live here?” There weren’t that many single family homes in Manhattan that were still used as domiciles, and the ones that existed were hideously expensive; Erik’s incredulity made sense. 

“Yes,” Charles said, distracted, as he realized where his house keys were - in his jacket pocket, in the coatcheck, at the club. 

But, he had his ID, some cash, a credit card, and a phone, which should be enough for what he needed to do. He turned to Erik. “Thank you,” he said to Erik sincerely. “I honestly can’t thank you enough.” 

Erik smiled, but it looked forced. “Just be careful of the back room, okay?” 

“I will,” Charles promised. He got out of the car and stood on his front porch and waved to Erik. 

Erik didn’t pull away, he just sat there with his engine idling. 

Charles sighed and rubbed his forehead. He sat down on his front porch and pulled out his phone. 

Erik turned off the car and stood up. “What’s wrong?”

Damn Erik for being a cautious gentlemen. “I left my keys at the club,” Charles said miserably. “I was calling a locksmith.”

Erik frowned and shut the car door. “You don’t--live with anyone? No spare key?”

“No roommates and, I keep meaning to have a spare key made…” Charles trailed off. “I’ll be fine, honestly.”

Erik eyed Charles. He was still wearing the ripped polo shirt, with no jacket, and since it was about two am in March the temperature was not much above freezing. “You’ll be here for hours.”

Charles shrugged. He was already starting to shiver.

Erik stepped back and looked at the house. “I could try breaking in?” He said doubtfully. 

Charles shook his head. “I could into the details of all my theft-deterrent systems, but suffice it to say that is not a good idea.”

Erik looked at Charles. He seemed amused, and then annoyed, and then resigned. “Come on.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m not leaving you here to freeze to death while you try to find a locksmith who will come help you in the middle of the night.” Erik’s voice was firm. “My place isn’t far.”

Charles opened his mouth to say he could get a hotel room and shut it immediately. He hadn’t planned to leave his keys at the club, but he wasn’t going to turn down an invitation to go to Erik’s home. Instead, he nodded meekly and got back in the car when Erik did.

Erik seemed anxious on the drive to his place. “I don’t ever have people over,” he said after a few minutes when Charles had looked over several times to see him drumming his fingers on his leg. 

“I’ll be the perfect guest,” Charles promised.

Erik made a sound that almost sounded like a laugh and looked at Charles from the side, a smile on his face. Charles grinned back. 

**

Charles’ first impression of Erik’s studio apartment is that it was _small_. Incredibly small. Charles’s walk-in closet in his bedroom was only a little bit smaller than the room Erik lived in. But it was also tidy, uncluttered, and looked barely lived-in. 

“This is--cozy,” Charles said.

Erik was out of his element. He didn’t know how to have guests at home; he couldn't even remember how long it had been since he’d had someone in his home; at least fifteen years. 

“I must say, these are not the circumstances in which I pictured myself going home with you,” Charles said, with a tentative smile. 

“You’re flirting with me,” Erik said. He sat down on his couch and made a vague gesture to Charles that he intended to mean ‘sit down if you want to.’

Charles’ smile faded. “I know you think that I’ve been asking you out just to get a freebee session from you, but I--”

“I don’t think that,” Erik said sharply, turning his head to Charles with a frown. “I don’t. I know…” he couldn’t finish that sentence. 

“Erik,” Charles said gently, sitting next to him on the couch and curling one leg under him so that he was facing the other man. “I don’t think I’m imagining that you and I have a--connection? Am I?”

“You’re not imagining it,” Erik said after too long, looking at his lap, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. His throat felt dry. “But I’m not--boyfriend material, Charles. I’m no good at...I’m not fit for human consumption.”

“Pardon me if I’d like to try consuming you all the same.”

 _You’re already consuming me,_ Erik wanted to say, but didn’t. He just kept looking at his lap. 

Charles kept looking at Erik. Erik could feel his eyes and the silent question they were asking. And then Charles asked the question out loud.

“Unless I’m mistaken...don’t you owe me a kiss?”

Erik turned his head to look at Charles. Even in the ordinary, yellow lighting of Erik’s apartment there was a unique beauty about him, something almost unbearably sincere in his visage, specifically around his eyes and his forehead. Erik had told Charles in their suspension bondage session that his body talked to Erik, but really it was his face that showed everything he was thinking, in sometimes excruciating detail. And right now he looked...hopeful, but mostly terrified. 

It occurred to Erik that this young man had been rejected by Erik twice already and yet he was still trying. He thought if he rejected Charles again the man might stop trying. 

And he suddenly realized he didn’t want Charles to stop trying. 

“Close your eyes,” Erik said softly. 

With a look of surprised pleasure, Charles did so. Erik moved closer, bracing his left arm against the back of the couch and running the fingers of his right hand through the hair at the back of Charles head. He fisted his hand there, as he had done so many times in their sessions, not to hurt Charles but to hold his head in place. 

He ran his nose along Charles’ cheek and back to his neck, inhaling the sweet and tangy scent of him, the smell of alcohol and the faint residue of fear. “My kisses may not be what you’re used to,” he cautioned softly. 

Charles made a small sound in the back of his throat and swallowed. 

Erik brought his face in front of Charles’ again and brushed their dry lips together once before he licked Charles’ lower lip with only the tip of his tongue. 

Charles whimpered and tried to move forward and close their lips together.

“Patience, pet,” Erik breathed, and licked Charles’ other lip as well. Charles’ mouth was slightly open, receptive, and Erik slipped his tongue inside, tasting Charles’ tongue and coaxing it out. Erik kept licking at Charles’ lips, around Charles’ tongue, just tiny flickers of sensation until Charles moaned impatiently and then Erik covered both of Charles’ lips with both of his and gave him a proper kiss, open-mouthed and hot. Charles groaned into it and licked into Erik’s mouth; Erik caught Charles’ tongue in his teeth and held on for a moment, not hard enough to hurt, until Charles whimpered. 

Reluctantly Erik pulled away, letting Charles’ head go, even though he wanted to taste Charles everywhere, wanted to lick and bite and kiss…

Erik got himself under control with an effort. 

Charles’ eyes were fluttering open. “Jesus Christ, is there anything you’re not good at?” he breathed. 

“Everything that’s not sex,” Erik said dryly, sitting back in the position he’d had before on his sofa. “You’ve seen the best of me already, at work. There’s really nothing else to me. Nothing good, anyway.”

"I don't believe that," Charles said gently, moving closer to Erik on the couch, so that their shoulders were touching. 

Before he could think better of it, and not entirely sure himself why he wanted to, Erik pulled out his phone. He brought up the picture of Magda and Anya and showed it to Charles, holding his phone at an angle where they could both see it. “My wife and my daughter,” he said softly. 

“Where are they now?” Charles asked, looking at the picture. He didn't seem tense or shocked, just curious.

Erik didn’t reply for a moment. Even this many years later, it was hard to say it. “They died. Sixteen years ago.” He was silent a moment, as both men looked at the picture. “The best of me went with them.”

Charles made a soft, breathy sound. “Oh, Erik. There is still good in you; I’ve seen it.” 

Erik didn’t respond, just blinked rapidly a few times and swallowed the lump in his throat. He had cried out all his tears for his family long ago. Still, there was something about telling Charles that made him feel like he had let go of something, or like something had been lifted off him, and he felt himself relaxing more with every breath. Erik often felt that he was never fully relaxed, but for once he let himself just lean into Charles and not try to be in control of everything. 

Charles took his hand and stroked it, humming softly. He radiated a contentment, a brightness, a joy that Erik wanted to touch and yet didn’t feel worthy of touching. 

“You made that bed at your studio,” Charles said suddenly. “And the bondage rack. I knew I would think of something you did well other than sex.”

Erik turned his head so he could inhale the scent of Charles’ hair and chuckled softly, puffs of air that moved Charles’ brown hairs. “Yes, I can weld. It’s not a lot to offer, but there is that.” 

Something Erik said made Charles’ muscles tense in surprise. Erik looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing. You just--surprised me.” He didn’t elaborate and even seemed to be blushing a little. 

“Speaking of making beds…” Erik leaned back into the couch, his legs sprawled. He turned his head and waved his hand in the direction of his Murphy bed. “I should pull that down.” He yawned hugely. It was after three o’clock, after all. 

By the time Erik had turned his head back, Charles had moved from the couch and was kneeling at Erik’s feet. He put one hand on either one of Erik’s thighs and looked up at Erik through his lashes, his chin tucked in supplication. 

It was an incredibly submissive pose and therefore thoroughly arousing for Erik. His breath caught in his throat. 

“Please,” Charles said and Erik knew exactly what he was asking and what he wanted. The work part of Erik’s brain wanted clarification, the Rules called for clarification, but Erik found his hand moving of it’s own accord to unbutton the first button on his jeans. Then he paused. 

“This is going to change everything, you know,” he said. 

Charles looked at him with eyes already clouded with lust. “Is that bad?”

Erik’s long fingers caressed another button of his button-fly jeans and slowly pushed the button through the fabric. “Could be.”

Charles was staring raptly at his hands as Erik slowly pushed another button through the hole, deliberately doing it agonizingly slowly. Charles made an impatient sound and looked at Erik’s face to see the man looking at him with half-lidded, barely open eyes and the barest of smirks on his lips. “You’re enjoying this,” Charles said accusingly. 

“Isn’t that the point?” Erik popped another button out.

“You enjoy seeing me in agony?” Charles demanded, teasing.

Erik popped the last button out. “Very much,” he breathed. 

Charles looked at him with surprise and a rush of desire. Erik smirked bigger and licked his lips. He pulled his cock out. Charles inhaled appreciatively and started to move towards it when Erik made a tsk-ing sound. “I’m surprised at you, pet.”

Charles exhaled impatiently. “I already said please.”

“Say it again,” Erik murmured. “I like how your lips move when you talk.”

Charles deliberately, coquettishly, licked his lips. “May I please suck your cock...sir?”

Erik waited a moment, watching Charles’ face. “You may,” he said. 

Charles moved forward and kissed Erik’s cock, making little moans of appreciation deep in his throat. He was clearly determined to tease Erik as much as Erik had teased him. He licked around the head of Erik's cock and Erik found his breathing changing as he enjoyed the sensation. His head fell back against the couch. It had been a long time since someone had sucked his cock, and never so skillfully in his memory. By the time Charles had the head of Erik’s cock in his mouth, while he tongued Erik’s frenulum intermittently, Erik was gritting his teeth and had his hands clenched into fists, gripping the couch on either side of his legs. It felt impossibly good; Charles’ mouth felt like a furnace and a pillow and Valentine’s Day and summers at the beach. 

Erik swallowed and started to feel a little panicky as Charles took the entire length in his mouth. He was out of control; he wanted to fuck Charles’ face and come down down his throat and he couldn’t...get…a grip…

“Yellow,” he gasped, but Charles either didn’t hear him or didn’t understand the significance of it. “Safeword!” He said louder, still gasping, trying desperately not to squirm away. 

Charles pulled off immediately, wiping his mouth. “Oh my god. What happened? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Erik said quickly. His eyes were closed, his left hand was on his face. He stroked Charles’ hair with his right hand. “I just need a minute. It was...intense.”

Charles gave him a cheeky smile and echoed his words from earlier back to him. “Isn’t that the point?”

Erik tugged on Charles’ hair playfully and Charles closed his eyes and looked for all the world like a contented cat. 

“I have...control issues,” Erik said finally. 

“Your wish is my command,” Charles said softly, demurely. 

“Is your cock hard?”

Charles gave him slow smile. “That’s a silly question.”

“Touch yourself while you’re sucking my cock,” Erik said. He gazed at Charles with a slack expression, his lips parted. “Jerk yourself off, but don’t come until I tell you to.”

Charles gave Erik a smoky expression. “Should I take my pants off?”

“No,” Erik said softly. “Lower them so they’re around your thighs, though.”

Charles pursed his lips at Erik but followed his instructions. He resumed sucking Erik’s cock, and Erik could hear him working his own cock at the same time. It had the added benefit of distracting Charles just enough to detract from his incredible technique - enough that Erik didn’t feel like his head was going to explode any moment. 

“I’m close,” Erik panted after a few minutes. “Where…?”

“Anywhere you want,” Charles gasped. 

“Good boy,” Erik grunted. “Close your eyes.”

Charles obediently did and Erik groaned as he shot thick strands of white cum across Charles’ lovely, flushed face. 

“Fuck, you look good like that,” Erik said, his voice thick and gravelly. He collapsed back on the couch, now stretched out on it lengthwise. He reached out to Charles and stroked his hair. Charles was still kneeling, eyes closed (as if he could open them), his semen-covered face upturned. His hand was still stroking his cock, too. He made a soft, questioning noise.

“I haven’t forgotten about you, pet,” Erik said fondly. “I just need a minute.”

“Should I go clean-up?” Charles asked. 

“No,” Erik said softly. “I want you to sit there with my cum decorating your face and think about what you’ve done.”

Charles made a sound, deep in his throat, and started jerking off harder. Erik watched for a moment and then said softly, “Stop.” 

Charles instantly stopped masturbating.

“Good boy,” Erik breathed, watching Charles shiver in delight. “Stand-up.” 

Erik let his hand glide down Charles’ arm until he could grasp Charles’ hand. “Lie down on top of me, face up.”

Erik could tell Charles, still effectively blind, was a little confused by the instruction. Erik put his other hand on Charles’ hip, guiding into position without crushing Erik’s genitals. Erik admired the view of Charles’ ass this afforded him until he was settled, relatively comfortably, lying face-up on top of Erik. 

Erik reached his right hand around to touch Charles’ cock and heard Charles’ quick inhale. “I need--oh, wait, this will work.” He wiped some of the semen off Charles face with his hand and used that as lubricant to stroke his cock. 

“Um,” Charles said. 

Erik paused stroking Charles' cock immediately. "What is it?"

"Ah...my face...it's sticky..."

"You don't like it," Erik said. It was half an observation and half a question.

"...you _do_ like it?"

"I do," Erik admitted in a murmur to the back of Charles' neck. "Makes me feel like--I've marked you, claimed you. But I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"Well, when you put it that way..." Charles laughed a little. "It's hotter knowing you like it."

"I really, really, do," Erik said in a low, guttural voice. "Also--do you remember asking me about breathplay in our last session?"

Charles inhaled sharply. "Yes," he breathed. 

"Is that 'yes' you remember, or 'yes' you want to do it?" Erik teased, although he could tell by Charles’ tone which he meant. He started stroking Charles' cock again, with his right hand, slowly, teasingly, while he kissed Charles’ neck. Erik moved his left hand up to Charles' face. "I'm going to cover your mouth with my hand and pinch your nose shut between my thumb and forefinger," he explained in a low voice. "Tap me three times rapidly if you need me to let you go at any point, but try and last as long as possible."

"Okay," Charles whispered. He sounded both apprehensive and excited. 

"Take a deep breath," Erik whispered, and when Charles did, Erik covered his mouth and nose as promised. 

He kept stroking Charles' cock, not insistently, as he counted off twenty seconds in his mind. For the last few seconds, he felt Charles start twitching a little and when Erik pulled his hand off, he jerked Charles' cock a little harder for a few seconds while Charles sucked in air again.

"Oh, fuck," Charles moaned, as the sensation hit him. There was a peculiar sexual rush experienced after the first breath following a period of oxygen deprivation, and if one could time it just right...

"Did you like that, pet?" Erik whispered into Charles' neck. “Do you deserve more?”

"Oh, god, yes, please," Charles gasped. 

"Deep breath," Erik reminded him, then covered his mouth and nose again. This time he counted to twenty-five, long enough to feel Charles' body start to buck involuntarily, before he let go.

"Oh shit, oh my God," Charles gasped as Erik kept stroking. "I'm close..."

"Did you forget you’re not allowed to come until I tell you to?" Erik said, with a touch of the sternness Charles had heard from him before, in their session. "Deep breath." When he felt Charles' chest inflate, Erik covered his mouth and nose again.

“Good boys do what they’re told, Charles,” Erik breathed into Charles’ ear. “So when I tell you to come, you do it, right when I tell you. Do you understand?” 

Charles could only nod, jerkily. 

Erik counted internally without a particular number in mind this time--he always counted; he didn't want to accidentally deprive anyone of air for long enough to cause brain damage--but he listened to Charles' body and felt his hips angling desperately towards Erik's hand. "Not yet, pet," Erik whispered into the back of Charles' ear.

Around twenty-five seconds Charles made a sound of delicious frustration. "Yes," Erik whispered, "I love that sound. Now, love. Come for me, Charles," and he let go of Charles' mouth and nose as Charles gasped and his body convulsed as he came onto his shirt and stomach. 

"Holy. Shit," Charles panted a minute later when he had recovered the ability to speak. "That--Jesus Christ, I had no idea. I can see why people end up accidentally killing themselves chasing that feeling."

"Don't kill yourself," Erik mumbled into Charles' neck. He was rapidly getting sleepy. It had to be--what, four in the morning?

Charles sat up and sat on the edge of the couch, next to Erik. He took off his shirt and used it to wipe off his face enough that he could see. He turned to look at Erik, who was almost entirely asleep on the couch. 

"Sorry 'Mm so tired," Erik said, trying to open his eyes. "'Mm a terrible host." 

"On the contrary, I find your hospitality exceptional," Charles said with an affectionate smile. He found the bathroom easily and cleaned himself up, mostly using his destroyed shirt, which he then threw away. The double-sized Murphy bed was easy to open, as well, and when a very sleepy Erik realized that Charles wanted him to move to a more comfortable bed so they could sleep together, Erik was easy to convince to move to the Murphy bed. He then clung to Charles like an overly affectionate octopus and promptly fell back asleep. 

Charles didn't fall asleep quite as quickly, purely due to the fact that he was a little preoccupied realizing he had to teach a nine am class the next day and he still needed to somehow get his wallet and house keys back, but once he set his phone alarm Charles felt settled and happy in a way he hadn't felt in a long time, possibly ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple paragraphs describing some intense consensual BDSM play at the Hellfire Club that Charles witnesses. It may be disturbing to some readers (it is disturbing to Charles).


	5. Dead Phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning and spoilers in end notes

_Thursday morning_

Erik had built a life around the fact that he wasn’t a morning person, so he wasn’t particularly concerned to wake up late the morning after Charles had stayed the night. He could tell from the angle of the sunlight coming in his window that it was late morning, perhaps around noon. Since Erik made his own work schedule, he never booked appointments before 10am and usually not even that early. Erik had slept very well, due in part to the exhaustion and stress (followed by incredible sex), and he was also feeling a deep satisfaction that he had not felt in a very long time. He had a vague memory of Charles murmuring something to him about class and borrowing a shirt while he slept, and even though he wished he and Charles could have woken up together, Erik smiled at the thought that there would be plenty of time for that. 

He checked his phone and saw he was right about the time; it was 11:43am. Also he had a missed call from the studio from around 10am; probably Emma wondering when he would be in. He called her from his bed. 

“Erik, there several messages last night that you may want to know about,” she said immediately. “Charles called around 1:15am; he seemed pretty upset. And there were some other people too.”

Erik frowned. “Don’t worry about Charles; he reached me. Who else called?”

“Um, only three new clients?”

Oh, wow. Erik sat up in bed. “Three? Did you call them back?”

“Yes, and they all made appointments: two of them for today, and one for 10am tomorrow morning. One of them said you did something that impressed him or something." Emma still sounded baffled. "Erik, did you - go out - last night?”

Two made appointments for today? Erik stood up. “Um, sort of. What time today?”

“Your first appointment is at 4pm, geez, give me some credit.”

Erik relaxed a little. At least he didn’t have to rush in. “And who is that with?”

“4pm? Her name is, let’s see...Moira Kinross. She seemed...normal, I suppose.”

Erik refrained from commenting about Emma's need to editorialize. It didn’t seem to stop her, anyway. “And what other appointments do I have today?”

“Nancy Smith at 6pm and Victor Creed at 8pm.”

Nancy Smith sounded like a fake name to Erik, but she would find out soon enough that nobody got to see him without showing valid identification. Victor Creed sounded somewhat familiar. Considering that first-time appointments were usually 90 minutes and he would need to clean thoroughly between, that meant he had a pretty packed evening. “Okay. Anything I should be aware of?”

“About Smith, I have no idea, but I apparently Creed is into bloodplay.”

“Oh. Will you--”

Emma gave him a put-upon sigh. “I’m already on it, Erik. You’ll have a gallon of blood ready and warm by tonight.” Erik had a closely-guarded recipe for fake blood that even tasted and smelled like the real thing. Well, enough for play purposes; nobody who had been around real blood would confuse it with the real thing. 

“You’re the best,” Erik said sincerely.

“I know,” she said calmly. “What time will you be in?”

Erik considered. “Probably around three o'clock." 

“I'll see you then," Emma said, and disconnected the call. 

Erik decided to go for a run, even though he usually didn’t when he had two or more clients in a day, but he just felt so good about everything that he wanted to _move_. 

He thought about Charles while he ran. Erik had broken a lot of his Rules the night before - normally he would list them and give himself a small negative consequence for each - but he felt fantastic today. He thought about how some of his rules may be obsolete, put in place to protect himself from things that used to seem dangerous, like getting close to other people, that didn’t seem as dangerous now. Erik knew he didn’t know that much about Charles, and that Charles was quite a bit younger than himself, but he was right: the two of them had a connection. And if Erik was to be honest with himself, they’d had one from their very first scene together. He’d be losing a client but gaining a lover, and it seemed like a pretty good trade to Erik - and he hoped Charles would agree. 

**

Charles had only found one shirt in Erik’s wardrobe that morning that was even close to appropriate for him to teach in - a black button-down shirt with about 2% spandex in the fabric that was probably tight on Erik but looked almost professional on Charles, although it was snug across the shoulders. He couldn’t find anything obvious to write on in Erik’s ridiculously tidy, tiny home, or anything to write with, so he reluctantly woke Erik just enough to tell him he was leaving and borrowing a shirt. He wasn’t sure how much Erik was cognizant of, because he just frowned sleepily (adorably) and mumbled something Charles couldn’t understand. Charles hesitated by the side of the Murphy bed for about 5 seconds before deciding a kiss was not appropriate and then he left. 

As soon as he got in a cab Charles realized he was going to be late to class, and when he pulled out his phone to call the administration to let them know, he realized that his phone was dead. Of course it was dead; he hadn’t charged it all night and his only phone charger was at home. 

Charles sighed heavily. He wished he could just bask in the glow of finally getting into Erik’s pants, but life had other things in store for him. After his morning class ended (he was ten minutes late, which wasn’t the end of the world, but it was a little embarrassing that he actually heard one of his students mutter “he’s rocking the freshly fucked look”), and he got to his shared office to check his email, he saw the he had received two emails that dampened his mood even further: one which reminded him that he had agreed to proctor a test that evening and another from his attorney, letting him know that he needed to be in court tomorrow regarding his step-brother’s pointless, greedy case against him - which meant he would have to cancel tomorrow's 2pm appointment with Erik.

And he couldn’t even call the studio to let Erik know because his phone was dead. Charles grumpily bought lunch and graded some papers, just killing time until his evening proctoring obligation, when he suddenly realized around 2pm that he had just enough time to swing by Erik’s studio and get back in time if he took a cab. It was a not a particularly effective use of time to do so, but Charles didn’t want to use any campus phones to call a professional dom - and besides, he wanted to see Erik.

**

_Thursday afternoon_

Erik got to his studio a little later than he planned, only a little bit before his 4pm appointment, who arrived early. He had just called Charles when the woman walked in and he disconnected the call before Charles’ voicemail could pick-up once he saw [the woman.](http://img4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120427210352/marvelmovies/images/9/97/Moira_XFC.jpg)

Although he had only gotten a brief glance before he slipped back to his studio so Emma could hand the woman the paperwork, every instinct Erik had told him the woman was a cop. She was a bland kind of pretty, with straight shoulder-length brown hair and big brown doe eyes, but the way she held herself screamed law enforcement to Erik. 

Emma coolly took the woman's form and ID and photocopied it, per their usual procedure. She smiled at the woman as she gave her back her ID and told her Master Erik would be right with her. Then she walked back to Erik's studio. 

As soon as she shut the door, she said, "She's a cop."

"Shit," said Erik. 

Emma slid the woman’s completed form and the copy of her ID over to Erik, along with a printout from a web page. "Her ID says her name is Moira Kinross, but using google reverse image search of the picture on her ID I found this." Emma tapped the print-out which showed the same face next to the words 'NYPD Lieutenant Moira MacTaggert'.

"Why is she bothering with me?" Erik asked, starting to pace. His relaxed good mood was starting to leave him. He had broken the rules, and now there were consequences. Not that he thought that what he had done the night before with Charles had anything directly to do with the woman in his lobby - but it felt like a sort of karmic retribution since Erik hadn't given himself consequences for breaking his rules as he usually did. 

"I have no idea," Emma said slowly, watching Erik pace. "Is there anything I can do?"

Erik shook his head. "I'll be out to get her in a moment. I just want to--compose myself."

Emma nodded. "Understood."

Erik tried to control his racing heart. Even though he was careful, he knew that he often toed the line with some of his clients regarding what the state of New York would consider ‘sexual conduct.’ He didn’t think that any of his clients had turned him in for prostitution, but he couldn’t think of any other reason that a cop would be here now. 

Erik decided to face the music and went out to get her, right as Charles walked into his lobby. 

Erik's heart leapt for a moment, because even though Charles looked tired he was a sight for sore eyes and he was wearing Erik's shirt, which gave Erik a very pleasant feeling of possessiveness. But...his timing could not have been worse. If the said anything in front of the cop that implied or confirmed that Charles and Erik had a sexual relationship, it could at a minimum give the cop reason to investigate him. Although, perhaps she already had reason.

"Hi Erik!" Charles said brightly, with a huge smile that lit up his face. Behind him, the cop looked up from her phone to see Erik for the first time. Charles’ back was to the woman.

"This isn't a good time," Erik told Charles in a low voice, his eyes flickering behind Charles to the cop. Charles immediately looked rebuked, and then just as quickly tried to cover it. 

"I actually can't stay more than a minute, anyway; I have a cab waiting," Charles said calmly, although with a little less joy in his voice. "I just dropped by to reschedule tomorrow's appointment. I have court--"

"Emma can help you with that," Erik said, needing Charles to leave before he said something that would incriminate Erik.

"I'm sorry I didn’t leave you a note this morning," Charles continued blithely, in a lower voice, though not low enough. "I did tell you I was borrowing your shirt."

The cop seemed very interested in the conversation he was having. Erik kept his face carefully blank, wishing he wasn't facing her for this conversation. 

"We should discuss it later," Erik said to Charles, interrupting him, internally pleading with Charles to understand and seeing that he didn't. He angled his body so the cop couldn't see his face while he tried to think of how he could get Charles out of there without being offensive. 

"...Perhaps this weekend?" Charles chirped, damn him. Erik wasn't sure whether to applaud his persistence or curse it. Maybe the cop hadn't noticed that Charles seemed to be both client and...someone who apologized for borrowing clothes and left in the morning without leaving a note. Erik winced internally.

However, now that the cop couldn't see his face, perhaps Erik could convey something to Charles that wouldn't seem like he was being a callous asshole. "Oh, I expect to be busy all weekend," he said with what he hoped was a sexy smile, hoping that Charles would understand Erik's meaning, and not just listen to his words...because Erik hoped to spend as much of that weekend as possible with Charles. 

He knew immediately that Charles had taken something else completely away from what Erik had said, because he blanched. "Right," he said tightly, glancing at Emma. 

Erik thought about pulling Charles back to his studio, right then, to explain, but he was too afraid of what it would look like to the cop. 

"I'll call you," Erik said, because the look on Charles’ face killed him, even though he was afraid saying even that was too much.

Charles nodded, but he didn't look much happier. "I have to go," he said distractedly and turned to leave. He seemed to notice Moira for the first time as he walked past her to the door, and then he paused, right at the door, looking back at her and then at Erik. 

With a superhuman effort, Erik kept his face blank. "Moira?" he said calmly, professionally. 

Charles left. 

**

Charles felt confused, and foolish. Erik had been so distant, almost callous with him. Charles understood that both Erik's assistant and his next client had been in the room, but was Erik - ashamed of Charles? Like he was some dirty little secret?

The worst part was when Erik had said "Oh, I expect to be busy all weekend," with this little smile on his face like it was some fucking _joke_ at Charles' expense...

Charles pushed down the pinch of hurt and took a deep breath. So. It was clear that Erik didn’t want to be mix work and pleasure; and he’d basically told Charles that when he said he didn't date his clients. But that didn’t explain why he said he was busy all weekend with that little smirk. Charles tried to think about everything that had happened clearly: Erik had seemed sweet the night before, had rescued him from the bondage club, was undeniably fucking hot as hell...but he had also told Charles that he was not fit for human consumption, that there was nothing good in him, that he had control issues...maybe he had been telling Charles, obliquely, not to expect a relationship?

But Erik had also shown him the pictures of his wife and daughter...it didn't add up. 

And unfortunately, this was all familiar to Charles. He wore his heart of his sleeve, after all; he had fallen for several people who hadn't returned his interest farther than a bed before. Erik had seemed different...but maybe he was just the same, just a guy who had taken advantage of Charles' gratitude to get his rocks off, who didn't want to have anything to do with Charles unless he was horny.

Charles pushed down his hurt. What had he expected, anyway? Erik didn't know anything about him other than what he was like sexually. Charles had been presumptuous to think that Erik might want something more. And it wasn't like Charles would have turned Erik down even if Erik had said explicitly, "All I want is sex." The man was smoking hot. 

Charles sighed. He couldn't think of a scenario that fit all the facts and it was frustrating as hell. There was nothing to do but wait and see if Erik actually did call. 

**

The cop followed Erik to his studio. She was so jittery that when Erik put his hand on the small of her back - something he usually did, a small touch to make his clients feel slightly submissive before they even got to his studio - she jumped and stared at him with wide eyes. 

"My apologies," he said smoothly and opened the door for her. 

She swallowed as he opened the door. She relaxed visibly when he led her to the sitting area behind the door. 

"Hello, Moira," he said calmly, reviewing her form. She had not written down much of anything. 

"What do I call you?" she blurted. 

"What would you like to call me?" he asked solicitously. 

"Oh. Um, your name, I guess," she said awkwardly. 

"Then you can call me Erik." he said with a light smile. He wished she would relax. "Tell me what you are looking for in your visit today, Moira."

Her face changed expression, something sly crossing it. "Um, well, ultimately sexual gratification," she said. 

God, she was a terrible actress. Had she ever worked undercover before? Erik didn't even blink. "Then I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place."

"Wait. I mean - isn't that what everyone comes to you for?"

"I don't want you to think about any of my other clients while you are here," Erik said smoothly, a practiced response. "I certainly won't be thinking of anyone but you."

She looked slightly annoyed. Erik didn't have sympathy; if she was going to bust him for prostitution she was going to have to try harder than that. 

"So what do you do - here?" she said finally.

"It would be faster to discuss what you want from me." Your move, cop. 

"I'm just not very--creative," she tried. "All I can really think of is getting a spanking and wearing handcuffs."

"That's an excellent first session," Erik said calmly, relieved that he finally had something to work with. "Let me tell you what I won't do. I will not have sex with you or penetrate you. That includes any definition of sex, and it includes penetration of any orifice, including your mouth, and includes penetration by any foreign object. Do you understand?”

Moira looked distinctly unhappy. "So if you--spank me, and I like it a lot...then you're just going to leave me hanging?"

"I can give you privacy afterwards if there is something...more that you would like to do for yourself," Erik said delicately.

"Uh-huh." She looked distinctly unhappy, but resigned. "Well, let's get started then."

Erik was not expecting that. She was so obviously not excited about anything that he'd been sure she was about to walk out. But the next thing out of her mouth made her strategy a little more clear. "You...you're not gay, are you? I mean you like girls, right?"

So she was going to try to seduce him, at least to the point where he would offer to do something that she could claim was sexual conduct. Erik knew she would not be successful - not if she was as uninterested in submission as she seemed to be - but he knew he needed to tread lightly, because an offended cop was not something he particularly wanted to deal with either. 

"Not that it's pertinent, but if you are asking if I find you attractive, I do," Erik finally said. He was stretching the truth; she was objectively attractive, but not in a way that Erik would actually find arousing. Erik had never been good at defining his sexuality, because gender was not his primary consideration when he contemplated what was attractive to him. He was more attracted to the way people responded to being tied up or spanked than he was to physical features or specific genders.

"Okay then," she said, for the first time with something resembling a genuine smile. She started getting undressed and Erik watched as she stripped down to a black bra and panties with matching black stockings and garters. It was probably the kinkiest attire she had, Erik thought without judgement. 

"Oh, and I want you to use _my_ handcuffs," she said suddenly, pulling them out of a pocket. 

"That's fine," Erik said, and it was - she no doubt had a key to them hidden somewhere accessible and even if she hadn't been a cop Erik would never have told someone they couldn't do that. The more comfortable she was, the less awkward this would be. 

"We're not quite done with the paperwork yet," he said with a little smile. He showed her where to sign and she did, and then he reviewed what a safeword was and how it worked - at that she just seemed impatient. 

Erik put the handcuffs on her, locking them on in front of her instead of behind her as he would with most clients. She hadn't said anything about names or dirty talk or scenarios, so he just locked her up with an impassive face. 

He then pulled her by the handcuffs over to the bed. She was looking surreptitiously at his crotch. _No, I'm not aroused,_ Erik thought. He started to lead her to lie on the bed with her hands above her head (if she lay _on_ her hands it would be quite uncomfortable), but when she saw what position he was guiding her towards, she turned to him. 

"Can you..." she licked her lips, "Put me across your lap?"

It was complete artifice, and Erik eyed her impassively before nodding once. He sat down on the side of the bed and pulled her across his lap. 

He was wearing gloves, of course, and he wanted to be anywhere else as he told her that she should rate the intensity of each spank so he knew what she liked. 

As it turned out, she did not like to be spanked harder than what Erik would consider to be a 3. Erik was not surprised. Also, she was wiggling on his lap in a way that might have been arousing if it were genuine, but he mostly felt embarrassed for her because it was she was so obviously not enjoying the scenario. He did have to respect her tenacity, at least. 

When he had spanked her for long enough that most of his clients would have been ready to climax, he stopped and helped her off his lap. "Would you like me to...give you some privacy?" he asked delicately. Probably not, since she was hardly aroused. 

"I want you to fuck me," she said bluntly, lying. She actually wanted him to offer to or try to fuck her. 

"That's not going to happen," Erik said calmly.

She was very annoyed by that. "Well, maybe I'll go to a dominant who will fuck me," she said. "I hear Sebastian Shaw will do that."

Erik had started to dislike the woman so much that he contemplated letting her do just that. But he couldn't see even sending even a lying, stubborn, obnoxious cop to Shaw. 

"You don't want to do that," he said after a moment.

She seemed to feel she'd had a small victory. She lifted her chin. "I don't? And why's that?"

Erik sighed. "Because, Ms MacTaggert, for one, he will know you're a cop quicker than I did."

"What," she said, eyes going artificially wide, and really, she was not going to win an academy award, ever, "I'm not a cop."

Erik puffed air out his nostrils, slightly annoyed and slightly amused. He walked over to the sitting area where he had her paperwork and she followed. He showed her the printout of her picture showing that she was a cop. She pressed her lips together. 

"You are a cop," Erik said evenly. "And you don't want to go to Shaw. You thought to manipulate me with your words, then with your body, and then with threats that you will go to my competition if I don't give you sexual gratification. Shaw will manipulate _circles_ around you. You won't even see him unless you sign his extremely comprehensive consent form. He will tell you he'll use _your_ handcuffs and then he'll substitute his own. He will give you drugs that affect you just enough for him to get what he wants, but not so much that you will be sure he ever drugged you. He will gag you and pretend not to hear your safeword. He will put you in terrifying, humiliating situations and take pictures, and then he will tell you that he's going to send those pictures to the one person in the world whom you most want to be proud of you. It's unlikely he will actually literally rape you, but if he thinks he can get away with it, he might."

Moira was staring at Erik, her eyes wide. Erik shook his head and continued. "Frankly, I think your superior officer or whoever sent you into the BDSM world looking for a bust should be fired. I have never met anyone less equipped to deal with Sebastian Shaw than you, my dear."

"I'm here on my own," she said, almost distractedly, looking very disturbed. "Why are you telling me this? About Shaw?"

Erik looked at her like she was stupid. "Because I'm not a horrible person? I don't want to knowingly let you go into a situation where you will be terrorized or tortured."

Moira put her head in her hands and sat on the far loveseat in his sitting area. "Dammit," she swore softly to herself. She looked up at Erik. "I don't really like being spanked," she said. 

"No kidding," Erik said, crossing his arms. 

"It’s just…” The cop sat down with a sigh and started putting her clothes back on. “We keep getting these reports, ever since that stupid fucking movie Fifty Shades of Gray came out, that people in the BDSM community are ignoring safewords and are more and more often crossing the line between what is legal and what is, in fact, rape." She sighed. "Everyone else in the department says it's too hard to prosecute, there's no point in investigating, but it pisses me off, and I got sick of it.” She finished dressing and made a point of looking Erik in the eye. “This--” she waved around Erik’s studio “--isn’t my thing. Still, I believe that what consenting adults get up to in their own time is none of my business...until it stops being ‘consenting’."

Erik both gained respect for the cop during that speech and started to feel a little offended. "So you're looking for rapists and you come to _me_? I am more conscientious about consent than any other dom in the city."

"No one else would see me," Moira said simply. She looked at Erik thoughtfully. "I came to you because you seemed the least likely to do anything without my consent, to be honest. At least according to your online reviews. But the same reviews indicate that you will sometimes...engage with your clients in ways that are not strictly legal."

Erik felt his cheeks coloring, but the cop didn't seem to notice. He resolved to set Emma to tracking down any online reviews about him; apparently he needed to pay a little more attention to his online reputation.

Moira looked rueful. "I guess I was hoping you would offer me something...sexual, something that would give me at least a little leverage so that I could convince you to give me leads on doms who _do_ engage in the kind of shit I’m looking for."

“Ah, the noble art of blackmail,” Erik said sarcastically. “Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t have anything that will help you aside from what I’ve already told you. I do agree with you - doms who don't listen to safewords are rapists as far as I’m concerned and should be prosecuted as such. But your colleagues have a point, too - it is awfully hard to prove. You'll probably get raped trying."

She stared at Erik for a few seconds without speaking. "It sounds like you don't much like Sebastian Shaw," she said carefully.

Erik laughed ironically. "Top marks. No, I don't. If I had anything on him, believe me, I would give it to you."

"You would?" She looked hopeful for the first time. "There's not some dom-to-dom code preventing that?"

Erik snorted. "Even if there was, I would break it for this," he said. "He's a morally bankrupt and dangerous man. I’d love to see him put away."

"Sounds like you have a personal vendetta,” she said, digging. 

Erik just looked at her for a few minutes before he decided he was done with the conversation. “I hope you enjoyed your session, Ms. Kinross,” he said formally, standing up and indicating the door. "Don't forget to see Emma for payment," he called to her back. 

Erik waited five minutes and then went to see Emma. "She paid, right?" he asked.

Emma nodded. "No tip, though."

"Well, she didn't have a very good time," Erik said. He explained to Emma what had happened and Emma shook her head. 

"Hey, so what's going on with Charles Xavier?" she asked slowly. “He cancelled tomorrow’s session - something about court. Should I call him to reschedule?”

Erik hesitated. He considered Emma his friend, but he kept his personal business to himself for the most part. And he certainly needed to explain himself to Charles before he told Emma about anything that had happened between them.

"Don’t reschedule him,” Erik said. “He won’t be...well, he won’t be a client of mine anymore. If he calls, just tell him I will call him as soon as I can," Erik said, looking at the clock; Moira's super awkward session had taken almost two hours. His next client came in just then and Erik tried to put Charles, and the incredulous look Emma was giving him, out of his mind. 

 

**

_Thursday evening_

Charles tried to think about anything but Erik while he proctored the test that evening, but he found it hard to focus on what he was supposed to be doing; for all he knew, every one of the students had cheated. When the test ended Charles wearily made his way home, taking a cab for the fourth time that day. 

When the cab pulled up in front of the house, he swore loudly, startling the cabbie. He still didn't have his house keys. But he saw a light on inside and realized that his housekeeper usually came Thursday evenings, and she had a copy of the key.

Kitty was in fact able to let him in, which was a relief because he didn't have it in him to go back to the Hellfire Club to get his jacket that night. He would need to retrieve it soon, but he was hoping to go midday because he didn't want to run into any other clients of that establishment if he could help it. 

Because he didn't want to be too hungover for court the next day, Charles allowed himself only three fingers of Scotch that night and fell asleep before midnight. He was finally able to charge his phone, and he was more disappointed than he wanted to be to find that Erik had not left him any voice mails.

 

**

Erik didn't get done with his last session that night until about 10pm, and there was a lot of fake blood to clean-up. Despite [Victor Creed's](http://image.blingee.com/images17/content/output/000/000/000/5ba/472472402_512021.gif) hugely muscled body and intimidating appearance, he was pretty straightforward about what his particular kink was: shallow cuts that "bled" a lot. He had found out that Erik was a professional dom when he had seen Erik at the club the night before and had asked about him. Creed was quick to dissociate himself with any of Shaw's crew, although he admitted he did frequent the back room. He made no secret of the fact that he was gay and was looking for ways ways to have safer blood play with his partner. 

Erik thought that Emma would probably call him "Sabertooth" due to fact that he had prominent incisors and a tattoo across his chest with that word. 

Erik didn't get home until almost 11:30pm, and he was completely exhausted. He knew he should call Charles and explain himself, but he didn’t have the mental fortitude for what might be a difficult conversation. He resolved to call Charles first thing in the morning, and then remembered that he had a 10am appointment the next morning. Well, he would call before that, then. 

**

Charles woke at 7am when his alarm went off. The first thing he did was check his phone - Erik had not called. Charles tried to tell himself that he didn’t care, but he _did_ care. He got ready for court, feeling more and more annoyed, at both himself and Erik. Why had he thought Erik would be different than any other guys? Charles was angry, but a part of him still wanted to give Erik the benefit of the doubt. 

Charles felt like a zombie in court, trying to look alert when he couldn’t focus on anything that was being said - thank goodness he had a great attorney. He did take note when Cain indicated that he needed to wrap up by noon that day because he needed to be somewhere else - Charles felt annoyed at the realization that he could have kept his appointment with Erik if he’d known that in advance. 

Charles realized he was beginning to obsess a little too much about what Erik was thinking and realized he just needed to call Erik himself. The judge called a recess around 9:45am and Charles slipped into a quiet corner in the hall to make his call. He realized in that moment that he didn’t even have a cell phone number for Erik - all he had was the studio’s number. But that had reached Erik before, hadn’t it? 

Since he thought Erik’s business hours started at 10am, he expected to leave a message, or better yet, perhaps it would ring through to Erik again...but to his surprise, Emma answered. 

“Oh, hello, sorry, I thought I would get voicemail,” Charles said in surprise. “This is Charles Xavier. Um, Is Erik available?”

“No, sorry Charles, he’s not here yet,” Emma said. “He didn’t call you yesterday?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Charles said. Although it gave him a little hope that apparently Erik had intended to - or Emma thought he had intended to. “Also, it looks like I may be able to come in this afternoon after all, if Erik still has room for me in his schedule?”

“Um...you should really talk to him about that?” Emma said. Charles could practically hear her cringing over the phone. 

“Oh, I see,” Charles said, a little softer than he wanted it to come out. “Well. Thank you--for your time,” he said awkwardly and quickly disconnected the call. He stood for a moment, thinking. Erik had clearly told Emma not to reschedule him, and Erik hadn’t called, when he said he would…

Charles hurt turned to anger. It was one thing if Erik just wasn’t interested, but to be so dismissive and disrespectful was unacceptable. He didn’t want Charles as a client anymore, either? Charles turned off his phone and went back into court, seething.

**

Erik woke up later than he intended and rushed to the studio to try and make a 10am appointment. Unfortunately, he arrived after 10am. Also unfortunately, the client didn’t show up either. 

It was extremely common for people to make appointments with Erik and then never show up. He knew it took a lot of courage for some people to come to a dom, and he recognized that often their courage would leave them when it came to actually coming to the studio. Usually he couldn’t help being annoyed at having his time wasted - but since he needed to call Charles anyway, he was just as glad to have a free hour.

“Charles called,” Emma said to him as soon as he she had informed Erik that his 10am appointment was a no-show. She seemed - annoyed at him? “You didn’t call him?”

“Didn’t get a chance,” Erik grunted. He didn’t like the way his assistant spoke to him sometimes, but that’s what he got for having a budding dominatrix for an assistant. 

“He wanted to re-book for this afternoon, and I told him he should talk to you about that,” Emma said tartly.

“What? Why didn’t you book him?” Speaking to Charles in person would be even better. If Charles came here, they could go out for lunch, Erik could explain about the cop, and about how he won’t be able to see Charles as a client anymore if they are dating...

“Because _you told me_ not to reschedule him,” she said, definitely annoyed now. 

Erik looked at her, suddenly realizing how his behavior might be appearing to Charles. “What did he say?”

“He sounded like someone shot his puppy,” Emma said flatly, her arms crossed. 

Erik swore and picked up the phone and called Charles. The call went directly to voicemail, so Erik left a message. _"Hi Charles, it's Erik. I want to talk to you, or better yet, see you, as soon as possible. I need to explain to you what happened at my studio yesterday. Will you please call me as soon as you can?"_

Erik knew the was an edge of desperation to his voice but he didn't care. He'd obviously upset Charles and he needed to fix it as soon as he could. 

“Piggy wants to come in this afternoon, though, if you can squeeze him in,” Emma said casually. 

Erik sighed. His least favorite client. “Sure, tell him I can. And let me know right away if Charles calls.”

**

Charles was done with court by 1pm, in a black mood. Erik was apparently a dick, his step-brother was a blithering time-wasting idiot, and Charles _still_ didn’t have his damn house keys back. Charles got in a cab and tiredly gave the address for the Hellfire Club. 

When he arrived, Charles had to pound on the door to get anyone's attention inside the club, but he heard a couple voices so he knew people were in there. Finally a [young woman](http://img1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140712215708/xmenmovies/images/thumb/d/d2/AngelSalvadore1-XMFC.png/500px-AngelSalvadore1-XMFC.png) wearing a black leather halter top and intricate wing tattoos across her shoulders answered the door, looking very annoyed. "What?" She snapped. 

"I'm so sorry to bother you," Charles said with his most charming smile. "I was here the night before last and I left my coat in the coat check. I'm really hoping it's still there."

She sighed heavily, looking him up and down. "What's your name?" she said. 

"Charles Xavier." 

"Hang on, Charles Xavier."

She was gone for about thirty seconds before she came back. "I need to look for it. Come wait inside."

Charles went inside and found the interior of the club looked far dirtier during the day than it did at night. "Hello?" he said, as Angel had disappeared. 

Sebastian appeared behind the bar with a slight frown on his face. It looked like he had been doing some work under the bar, as he was in much more casual clothes than Charles had seen him in before. "Is someone here?" he asked, apparently not seeing Charles.

"Hello again," Charles said with an awkward smile and wave. Sebastian cocked his head at him and frowned more deeply. 

"We met the night before last...Charles," Charles prompted. 

"Oh!" the man's face cleared. "I knew you looked familiar, sorry about that."

"I guess we all look different by daylight," Charles said, just to make conversation. He wondered how far Angel had to go to look for his jacket. 

"What brings you here at this hour?" Sebastian said, bending over again. He seemed to be restocking the bar. "You are either very square or very hard core to show up in a bondage club at noon."

Charles laughed and took a seat at the bar. "I forgot my coat." He didn't want to go into the circumstances under which he had left and he hoped Sebastian didn't remember, or didn’t know. 

"Ah." Sebastian seemed sympathetic. "Something you needed in there, huh?"

"Just my house keys," Charles admitted.

"Ouch," Sebastian said, shaking his head with a smile. "Hey, do you have to drive right now?"

"No," Charles said. "I don't drive."

"Oh good." Sebastian placed a tumbler on the counter. "I've been tweaking my drink recipe and I wanted to know if you would be a guinea pig for me."

"This is the drink I tried to buy you Wednesday night?" Charles said, smiling. He was flirting a little bit, but Sebastian had already made it clear that he wasn't interested so he didn't see the harm.

"A version of that," Sebastian said with a smile. He put a cherry in the drink and pushed it towards Charles. Charles tasted it. 

"Mmm, it's sweeter," he said appreciatively.

To his surprise, Sebastian cocked his head and frowned. "Really? I was aiming for less sweet, with a subtle citrus kick. Are you sure you tasted this with a properly clear palate?"

Charles chuckled. "This is serious business to you, isn't it?"

"Don't tell anyone I'm not paying you," Sebastian said with a wink. He suddenly looked a little bit more attractive to Charles. "Try it again. Tell me if you can figure out what kind of citrus it is."

Charles took another sip. "Grapefruit. No, wait..." he tasted again. "Orange juice?" 

Sebastian smiled. “A little of both,” he said. “You have a very discerning palate. I bet nobody gets away with giving you [two-buck chuck.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Shaw_wine#/media/File:Two_Buck_Chuck_for_sale.jpg)”

Charles snorted. “Not since high school,” he said. He had attended high school in the United States until he’d moved to London to continue his education.

Charles didn’t say anything for a moment, as Sebastian’s comment had reminded him of moving from London and not knowing anybody - and the person he most wanted to know better apparently wanted nothing to do with him.

“Everything ok with you?” Sebastian asked solicitously, as he continued to work. 

“Ahh...just a rough couple of days,” Charles said finally. 

Sebastian gave him a sympathetic look. “You should do something fun, something to get your mind off your troubles,” he said significantly. “Tell you what. You’re a nice guy, you’re giving me free opinions of my new drinks: if you want a free session anytime next week, give me a call and we’ll set it up.”

A free session. Charles remembered the card Sebastian had given him and recalled that Sebastian was a professional dom as well. he looked at Sebastian speculatively. He wasn’t particularly attractive, not to Charles, anyway, but he was nice, and he projected confidence. Charles had no doubt that he was a very effective dom. 

And Charles was craving being tied up and dominated, craving a little pain that would take his mind off...well, everything. And since Erik didn’t want to see him…

“What about right now?” Charles said, catching Sebastian’s eye. 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him and a slow smile crept across his face. “I do love it when they’re eager,” he said in a low voice that made Charles feel - both a little scared and aroused at the same time. 

Sebastian made a point of looking at the time. “I supposed I could squeeze you in right now,” he said. “My studio is upstairs.” 

He looked at the staircase, to the right of the bar, and then looked back at Charles. The expression on his face changed to one of expectation. 

Charles finished the rest of the drink in one swallow and walked towards the staircase Sebastian had indicated. He didn’t look back, but he heard Sebastian’s footsteps right behind him on the staircase. 

“I hope it’s not a problem that I’m slightly intoxicated from your drink,” Charles said when they reached what appeared to be the lobby of Sebastian’s studio. It had black marble floors and red velvet couches. 

“Not at all,” Sebastian said smoothly. “I find a little alcohol helps loosen inhibitions, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” Charles agreed. He didn’t feel drunk, but he didn’t feel sober, either. 

Sebastian brought him a clipboard with a multiple page document with highlighted places for signatures. He handed it to Charles with a pen. “The fine print, standard disclaimers, et cetera,” he said dismissively. “Usually my assistant does this part, but she’s not here now, so.”

Charles hesitated as he looked at the document. “Is this where I put - um, what I like?”

“No, this is for liability reasons and because I don’t want to be prosecuted for prostitution,” Sebastian said easily. “We’ll talk about what you like together, next.”

Erik was concerned about prostitution, too. Charles supposed it was a concern for anyone in the industry. He signed in the indicated places and passed the clipboard to Sebastian.

“Excellent,” said Sebastian, accepting the clipboard and putting it on the counter. “Tell me what you like, Charles.”

“I like…” Charles bit his lip, suddenly feeling shy. 

“Would you find it easier if I blindfold you?” Sebastian asked softly.

“Oh. Yes, I think I would,” Charles said in surprise. He didn’t know why, but there was an appeal there. 

Sebastian smiled and produced a [leather blindfold](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/816pEa%2B8YGL._SL1500_.jpg), with two padded circles for the eyes. He put it on Charles, buckling it in the back. Charles could smell his Old Spice cologne as he did it. 

“Go on, tell me,” Sebastian said, and his voice was lower, breathier now. 

“I like being tied up and/or restrained,” Charles said. It seemed like as good as place as any to start. “I like to be spanked and flogged, I like to be blindfolded - well, obviously - I like to be…” he pondered, because some things felt...not right to share with Sebastian. “I like dirty talk,” he said finally. “I like to be...punished,” he finally finished softly when he realized that’s all he really wanted to say to Sebastian. He didn’t want Sebastian to call him toy or pet because those were things that Erik had called him. And while he did want to be gagged, he also wanted his mouth free to be able to say the safeword if he needed to. 

“Anything else?” Sebastian asked softly. His voice sounded almost like...no, that had to be coincidence. 

“I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to nipple clamps,” Charles said, almost shyly.

“Wonderful,” Sebastian said, and there was a darker quality to his voice, an animal satisfaction. “And what are your hard limits? The absolute nevers?”

“Absolute nevers? Well, be pissed on, for sure,” Charles said suddenly feeling naked. “I don’t want anal penetration - er, not today, anyway. And I don’t like being called bitch or cunt or a girl.”

“Alright,” Sebastian said smoothly, nodding. “Let me tell you about my process, Charles. I consider myself an artist, and what that means is I like to take what you know you like and extrapolate a scenario that will have some surprises for you but that I believe you will enjoy very much.”

Charles frowned a little and opened his mouth to object when Sebastian continued. “You can always say your safeword if anything is not to your liking, and I will adjust accordingly.”

Charles thought about that. “Okay,” he said slowly, absorbing. 

“The scenario that comes to mind when I hear you talk…” Sebastian paused for a moment. “Do you like roleplay, Charles?”

“I haven’t really done it, but I’m game,” Charles said, intrigued. 

“I’m thinking that I am a feudal lord and you are my cheating husband,” Sebastian said in a low voice. He started to touch Charles, his hand trailing down Charles’ arm. “And I have caught you cheating on me with a peasant from the village, and I am punishing you.” When he spoke that way, his voice lower, and breathier, his consonants seemed crisper...Charles could almost pretend that it was Erik talking to him.

Charles was aware that his breathing was changing as he thought about what Sebastian was proposing. “That’s pretty hot,” he said, in a slightly breathier voice than usual. 

“We don’t know each other that well, Charles,” Sebastian continued in his low voice, close to Charles’ ear. “But I think you know something about being a submissive, don’t you?”

“A little bit,” Charles admitted, thinking of his sessions with Erik. 

“So you know how important trust is between a dom and a sub, yes?”

Charles nodded. Erik had never explicitly explained that but it certainly made sense.

“Trust is like a muscle, Charles. It gets stronger when it’s exercised. So I’m going to ask you to trust me and try not to safeword unless you absolutely must, okay?”

Charles felt his pulse speeding up. It was scary, but also terribly exciting, to extend his trust to this man that he didn’t know that well, but the idea of his dom incorporating surprising elements, things Charles hadn’t explicitly green-lighted in advance, was also titillating. And he could always safeword if it was too much - he would just try not to. 

“Okay,” he whispered. 

“Stand up, Charles.”

It was a command. Charles stood up. 

“Your safeword is ‘Goldilocks.’ You have twenty seconds to take your clothes off.” 

Charles startled and immediately started to strip himself. 

“Faster, whore. Show me how you strip for your lover!” Sebastian’s voice had gained a hard edge to it. 

Charles undressed as fast as he could, but was distracted when he heard a crack - it sounded like a whip crack. His skin prickled with sweat as he hoped fervently that Sebastian wasn’t planning on using that whip on him. 

“You will get a lashing for every second over twenty it takes you to get your clothes off,” Sebastian snarled, cracking the whip again. 

“Please, no,” Charles whimpered, hastily toeing his shoes off and standing wearing nothing but his underwear. He felt Sebastian’s fingers in his hair, pulling tight, tight enough to make Charles whimper again.

“Is this a fucking game to you?” Sebastian hissed in his ear. “Take off your goddamn underwear.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles said, dropping them. He had to fight his instinct to cover his genitals with his hands. His cock was half-hard.

“You address me as ‘My Lord’,” Sebastian said coldly. “Maybe you will earn the right to call me your husband again if you can take the punishment I plan on giving you without screaming like a little bitch.”

Charles jolted at hearing a term he had specifically told Sebastian not to use, and yet...in context, it seemed like the appropriate thing to say - and his cock certainly seemed to think so, too.

“Grab your elbows behind your back,” Sebastian said. “ _Move,_ slut!”

Charles wasn’t sure he understood the instruction, but he did his best, putting both arms behind his back so his forearms were parallel to each other and perpendicular to the rest of his body.

“Well, at least that peasant didn’t completely fuck your brains out,” Sebastian said, tying what felt like leather straps around Charles’ forearms so he couldn’t move them. Charles felt a hand on his cock and gasped in surprise. “Did he suck on your cock, whore? Or did you get on your knees and suck his?”

The hand on his penis disappeared, and Charles realized that Sebastian was waiting for a response. “I...sucked his cock,” he said, not sure exactly what else to say, and adding quickly, “My Lord.”

“Down on your knees, where a slut like you belongs,” Sebastian said, and Charles obediently got down on his knees. 

“Born to be a be cocksucker,” Sebastian sighed, “I don’t know what I was thinking when I married a whore like you. I should let everyone have a go, just let them all fuck you. Would you like that?”

Charles made a small sound, not sure what the right answer was, not _really_ wanting what Sebastian was saying but still feeling aroused by the words. 

“Put your forehead on the ground, whore,” Sebastian directed with a snarl. 

Charles did so carefully, realizing exactly how exposed he was in this position, especially naked, his ass in the air. He had told Sebastian no anal penetration, but he had also told him he didn’t like being called a bitch…

“I’m not going to fuck your dirty hole, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Sebastian said. “You don’t deserve my cock, but I want you to beg me for it anyway. And be creative; I don’t want to hear the same shit come out of your mouth twice.”

Then Charles felt a lash across his ass, completely unexpectedly, striking him _hard_. “Fuck,” he yelled. It didn’t feel like a whip, but it wasn’t a flogger. Maybe a belt, Charles thought. He trembled a little, suddenly realizing how completely at this man’s mercy he was.

“That was a hard one, so you know what you get if you don’t comply,” Sebastian said. “Now beg me to fuck your ass.”

Charles swallowed. “Please fuck my ass,” he said, tentatively.

Sebastian swung the belt again, not quite as hard. “Again.”

“Please fuck--” Charles remembered abruptly that it was supposed to be different each time. “--me in the ass?”

Sebastian lashed hard enough to make Charles cry out, but not as hard as the first time. “You can do better than that, slut! It’s a wonder you get anyone to fuck you.”

“Please shove your cock in my ass,” Charles said desperately.

Another lash, but this one was only as hard as Charles wanted. “I’m begging you to fuck me,” he moaned, and was rewarded with another appropriately hard lash.

“I want My Lord’s cock inside me,” Charles said, his mind working desperately. How many ways was there to say this?

“Please give me your cock.” Lash. 

“Please fuck all my holes!” A slighter hardly lash, but that’s what Charles wanted, as he was beginning to feel intensely aroused. It helped that he wasn’t actually thinking about Sebastian - he was thinking about how much he wanted to fuck Erik, even though he was a bastard who didn’t call when he said he would...

“Fuck your whore, please,” Charles moaned. He was beginning to wonder if he meant it. 

No lash came. 

“My lord?” Charles gasped, questioning. 

“Turn over and lie on your back, Charles.”

Charles did, even though having his forearms tied as they were made it an awkward position, forcing his back to arch. He gasped when he felt both his nipples get pinched by something simultaneously, something that stayed on. “Oww, please,” he choked, almost in tears because it was harder than he was used to - harder than Erik had ever done it.

“It seems to me you’ve been enjoying your punishment a little too much,” Sebastian said softly. “I want to see you squirm for a bit. Tell me you want to suck my cock.” Charles felt Sebastian’s hand beginning to stroke his cock. 

“I want to suck your cock,” Charles whined through gritted teeth. It was painful but he could take it. He didn’t want to end the scene. And the handjob was feeling good. 

“Tell me you are a filthy whore.”

“I am a filthy whore,” Charles panted. 

“Tell me you will do anything I say.”

“Anything,” Charles whimpered. He had to admit to himself that he was enjoying this, enjoying the things Sebastian was saying and forcing Charles to say. He was getting close to coming, even as he felt tears coming to his eyes at the pain from his nipples.

“Tell me you want to swallow my piss.”

Charles stiffened in shock. He couldn’t say that. And yet being asked to say it was unbearably hot.

Sebastian grabbed has face and then slapped his cheek; not hard, but enough to be shocking. “Tell me, whore!”

“I want to swallow your piss,” Charles choked, not sure how he was feeling, at some crossroads of scared and aroused and disgusted, and then Sebastian’s hand did its job and his hips lifted as he started coming. 

Shaw released whatever had been clamped onto his nipples then, and Charles screamed. He couldn’t help it; the pain was intense. His body convulsed even as his cock was still spurting and he rolled to his side. Sebastian untied his arms but left his blindfold on, which is what Charles wanted at that moment. 

“I’ll be right back,” Sebastian murmured and came back with a warm towel. Charles accepted it and cleaned himself off and collapsed on his side. Sebastian was stroking down Charles’ back, which felt nice, even as Charles continued to shudder in the aftermath of his orgasm. Charles let himself relax into the feeling. His nipples were feeling much better already; they hadn’t really been clamped that long, come to think of it.

“You are exquisite,” Sebastian said after a moment and Charles undid the blindfold to look at the man. 

“What?” he said, blinking. He felt like everything was a little bit surreal, even with the blindfold off. 

“You, Charles Xavier, are a beautiful creature and a born sub,” Sebastian said warmly. “You did so well - that was amazing. Really, you could have a career doing this.”

Charles didn’t know what to say to that. “Thanks, I guess?”

“It was most definitely a compliment,” Sebastian said lightly, with a fond smile. “You exemplify my theories about submissive desires, you know. It’s refreshing to be with someone so uninhibited.”

Charles supposed he was good at being a sub. He was flexible enough to go with the flow even when there were elements incorporated that--he had thought, anyway--he hadn’t wanted. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Sebastian asked, in a soft but neutral voice. 

“Yes,” Charles said, because it was true, he had, even though...it wasn’t like being with Erik. 

“You need to be honest with me, Charles,” Sebastian said calmly, still stroking Charles’ back. “That’s how we develop trust. Communication, feedback.”

“Well,” Charles said slowly, “I did--I mean, obviously, I enjoyed myself, but you called me a bitch when I specifically asked you not to.”

Sebastian just nodded. “What else?”

“Well, the whole pissing thing - I told you how I felt about that.”

Sebastian nodded again. “And yet, I didn’t piss on you, did I?”

“No,” Charles admitted. 

“You see, Charles, the boundaries your mind puts in place are the ones you most want to push against. Not step over - but it’s at that cusp where some of the most intense sexual feelings live.” Sebastian spoke passionately; he almost sounded like a college lecturer. Then he smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, I get a little intense when I talk about this. I just really love the psychology of sadomasochism.” He stroked Charles’ hair. “Do you feel that I took advantage of you, or violated your trust?”

Charles thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

“But you are thinking that you wouldn’t come see me again,” Sebastian guessed.

Charles was uncomfortable with how Sebastian seemed to know his thoughts - it was almost like his mind was as naked as his body. “I don’t know,” Charles hedged. 

Sebastian laughed. “Well, of course you feel that way right now. You and I don’t have a relationship, so now that you’ve climaxed, you are done. But the next time you get aroused, all this will seem much more appealing...don’t you find that to be the case?”

That actually resonated with Charles. When he watched porn online and jerked off, he would watch videos of men being tied up and beaten that aroused him right until the moment he came - and then he found it distasteful. So what Sebastian was saying made sense.

Charles sat up and looked for his clothes. They had been pushed to the side, fortunately, and so were not covered in semen as he had feared. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Sebastian asked him, watching him get dressed. 

Charles snorted. “A whole lot of nothing.” Not what he had hoped to be doing. 

“I wouldn’t usually ask this of a new...well…” Sebastian looked at him thoughtfully and then waved his hand. “Nevermind.”

“What?” Charles asked, sitting down on one of the velvet couches to put on his shoes. 

“Oh, it’s just a thing I’m hosting this weekend at my house in the Hamptons,” Sebastian said dismissively. “Probably not suited for you.”

“Um, okay.” Charles felt like he was being baited but he decided to bite anyway. “Why not?” 

“Well...you just told me that you don’t want to see me again,” Sebastian said, reasonably.

“Actually,” Charles said, glancing up at Sebastian with a slight smile, “You told me that.”

Sebastian laughed. “Charles, you are fun, in more ways then one. So, anyway...I host a quarterly retreat for people in the lifestyle, people like us. It’s a select group, and the person who was going to come as my guest this weekend had a sudden family emergency and can’t make it. The house is quite large, on the beach, and there is a hot tub - we have a lot of fun group activities planned, and there will be about a dozen other people there, so it’s a good way to make friends.”

“Okay,” Charles said slowly. “When you say activities...I mean, you’re talking about bondage, right?”

Sebastian chuckled. “Yes, Charles,” he said with an amused look in his eye. “Same rules apply - you can state explicit boundaries and everyone will have the same safeword, so there is no doubt what you mean if you want to stop anything at any time.”

Charles hummed noncommittally. 

“Charles,” Sebastian said softly, “This is - I know you aren’t familiar with the local scene, but I don’t invite people to this event lightly. It’s extremely rare that there are openings at all, to be frank; most people are invited at least almost a year in advance. I am rather picky about the quality and appearance of participants, to ensure that everyone has a good time.”

“So _are_ you inviting me?” Charles said, being coy. “You haven’t been exactly clear about that.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Charles, although he had a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, you. Do you have any idea how badly you need to be gagged?”

Charles grinned back. That particular fantasy still hadn’t come true, he realized. “It sounds fun,” he said. It did sound fun, especially considering that Erik had indicated he had plans all weekend. But there was one thing worrying Charles. 

“The other people coming…” he hesitated. “There were two men I had an...altercation with, a few nights ago. I can’t consider coming with you if either of them will be there.”

Sebastian looked alarmed. “Who? What did they do?”

“Their names were...I think...Azrael and Jonas?”

“Azazel and Janos,” Sebastian said darkly. “No, Charles, I assure you neither of them will be attending this weekend. I allow them at the Hellfire Club because they buy a lot of drinks, but I assure you, the caliber of person attending will be much higher than them. Come to think of it, you might know one of the other doms.”

“Oh?” Charles said, his head perking up. He only knew one other dom, someone who had said he had plans all weekend…

Someone who was a jerk who didn’t return calls. But that didn’t make Charles less attracted to him, unfortunately. The possibility of seeing Erik there should have been a deterrent for Charles. But instead it made his heart pound. The moment Sebastian had hinted that another dom Charles might know would be there, Charles knew he would be going. 

“I don’t drive,” Charles reminded Sebastian. “How would I get there?”

“I’d be happy to give you a ride,” Sebastian said smoothly. “We can swing by your house so you can pack, too. I’m sure Angel has found your jacket by now.”

“It’s a plan then,” Charles said, stretching. He hoped he could maybe take a nap in the car on the way there. 

It didn’t occur to him that his phone was still turned off from court that morning until they were already in Sebastian’s BMW and on the way to the Hamptons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of this chapter is the first Shaw/Charles scene - Charles enters it consensually, but there is dubious consent because Sebastian Shaw is a creepy manipulative bastard. The author does NOT condone Shaw's brand of BDSM, in case that's not clear in the story.


	6. Shaw's Retreat (aka creepy dubcon chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning in end notes: please read if you think you *might* be triggered
> 
> You can skip this chapter and the story will still make sense, but in that case I advise you read the end notes.

Charles realized that his phone was still turned off from court that morning as soon as they had left his house, but he hadn’t wanted to appear rude to Sebastian by immediately checking his phone. They had made a very quick stop at Charles' house; quick because Charles hadn't particularly wanted Sebastian to come inside, so he lied and said he already had a bag packed that he just needed to grab. 

He had hurriedly grabbed some clothing and toiletries and shoved them into a small piece of luggage along with his phone charger. He didn’t need to deal with having a dead phone again. 

But since it was a Friday afternoon there was a lot of traffic, and Sebastian was focused on driving, so Charles turned on again his phone after he and Sebastian had been on the road for about thirty minutes, around 4pm.

Charles' heart thudded a little harder when he saw that he had received a voicemail from Erik’s studio and a text message from an unknown number. He checked the text first.

_**Please call me when you can --Erik** _

Charles stared at the words for a moment, looking for hidden meaning. The words weren't particularly formal or casual, and they didn't seem that apologetic. Hmm. Also, the text was time-stamped as having been received at about 1:30pm, a few hours after the voicemail, which had been received a little after 10am. 

He debated the appropriateness of listening to the message in the car with Sebastian next to him for about ten seconds before he decided to go ahead and listen to it, with the volume turned down, close to his ear.

_"Hi Charles, it's Erik. I want to talk to you, or better yet, see you, as soon as possible. I need to explain to you what happened at my studio yesterday. Will you please call me as soon as you can?"_

Charles' stomach did a little flip-flop to hear Erik's voice, and to hear him sounding so sincere. His instinct was to call Erik back immediately, but he forced himself to think about it for a moment. 

He liked Erik, and it while he wanted to believe it was possible that Erik wanted to reach him to tell him “I barely know you but I really want to be with you”... Charles felt like he had lived a little too much to believe that was really possible. Probably, Erik was just finally acting like an adult and planned to tell Charles personally that he couldn't see him as a client anymore because of what had happened between them. It still stung to think about how Erik had not wanted to reschedule him, and that he hadn’t called Charles when he said he would...and most importantly, Charles couldn't forget the _way_ Erik said that he had plans that weekend; with a little smile, as if Charles amused him in some way, as if he knew something Charles didn’t...Charles didn't like being laughed at.

But even if Erik wanted to date Charles, _and_ had a credible explanation for the way he’d acted...Charles was in a car heading away from Manhattan on a Friday afternoon in heavy traffic, and the traffic going into Manhattan was even worse; even if Charles wanted to go back, he doubted very much that Sebastian would drive him back. 

And then suddenly Charles remembered why he’d agreed to the trip in the first place. Sebastian had said he might know one of the doms there, and Charles was pretty sure that Sebastian had seen Charles and Erik leaving the Hellfire Club together a few nights before, and Erik had said he had plans that weekend; so Erik could be at their destination already. The thought made Charles feel both anxious and excited. 

The possibility of seeing Erik in a few hours made Charles not want to text him back, but he didn’t want to be as rude as Erik - and he didn’t want Erik to know that Charles thought they might see each other. If they did, better for Erik to think it was a coincidence.

He composed and re-composed a text six times before he had decided what to say: _**Sorry, last-minute trip out of town this weekend. I'll call you when I'm back.**_

Charles wondered how long he would have to wait for a response when his phone rang - Erik was calling him. Charles’ heart thudded as he declined the call - He couldn't imagine anything more awkward than talking to Erik with Sebastian sitting right next to him. Sebastian glanced over curiously just as Charles switched the ‘ringer’ setting on his phone to vibrate. 

"You can answer your phone, if you like," Sebastian said calmly, his eyes on the road again. 

"No, it's--nobody I need to talk to," Charles said. "I'll just text him."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow but made no comment. 

He quickly texted Erik again. _**This isn’t a good time. I'll call you when I'm back in town.**_ It was a little bit snarky, because Erik had told him "This isn't a good time" at his studio. But possibly Erik wouldn't notice that. 

_**Please** _

Charles stared at the text and it made his stomach hurt a little. The lack of punctuation or other words made Erik’s meaning unclear. Did he mean, ‘Please do’ - that sounded more professional. Just the word ‘please,’ though...it was uncomfortably like begging, and Erik was a dom. He wouldn’t do that. Charles realized that as usual he was over-analyzing the situation and felt annoyed at himself. Hopefully this would be a moot point if Erik was at the house in the Hamptons. If Erik liked him, they could talk. If Erik just wanted to have a professional relationship...well, then at least Charles might have at least one more chance to sub for him before they didn’t see each other anymore. Charles put his phone away and decided to nap the rest of the way to their destination. 

**

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

Charles blearily opened his eyes to see Shaw smiling at him. "We're here, Charles. Come inside."

Charles was not usually impressed by wealth or opulence, having grown up around it his whole life. The house was a very modern design, with clean lines; beautiful but nothing that would have impressed Charles unduly except for the location: the [large, multi-level house](http://www.danspapers.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/263-surfside-dr_BH_Hi-res_011.jpg) was situated right on the beach, and there was 180 degree ocean view, unblocked by other houses, right on the beach.

"This is beautiful," Charles said sincerely, as they approached the front door. 

"Why thank you, Charles," Sebastian said with a smile. "I talked to the staff while you were sleeping; they let me know that they are preparing dinner now and it should be ready in a few minutes."

Charles could smell the food cooking and realized at that moment that he'd forgotten to have lunch - dinner smelled divine. His stomach growled. 

Sebastian smiled at him. "Follow me, I'll show you where you will be staying."

Charles followed Sebastian through the living room and up the stairs and Sebastian indicated a door on the left - a gorgeous, huge, [master bedroom suite](http://cdn.decoist.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/Stunning-bedroom-uses-sheer-curtains-to-add-to-the-dramatic-ocean-views-outside.jpg)  
with an amazing ocean view that stretched across the whole room. There was also a [master bathroom](https://d31eqxppr3nlos.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Gavin-Maddock-Pearl-Bay-Final-09-870x580.jpg) with a huge and inviting bathtub. 

"Are all the rooms like this?" Charles exclaimed, looking around.

Sebastian chuckled. "No, just ours."

Ours? Charles turned to look at Sebastian and his face colored when he realized that Sebastian expected Charles to stay in this room with him - to sleep with him. And then he realized how naive he had been to think otherwise - an older man invites him to go out of town with him, as his 'companion'?

"Well, it's lovely," Charles said, forcing a smile. Sharing a bed with someone did not mean he was obligated to have sex with them, after all. 

Charles could still smell the delicious fragrance of dinner strongly - possibly because he was so hungry. "Do I smell bacon?" He asked. 

Sebastian smiled. "I believe there is bacon in the quiche, yes. We have a couple housekeeping things to take care of before we join the rest of the group, though."

"Dinner's ready!" A woman's voice called down the hall.

"Housekeeping?" Charles asked. His stomach growled. 

"Just paperwork," Shaw said, pulling some papers out of his suitcase. The document packet had even more pages than Charles had signed the last time, but every line that required a signature was conveniently highlighted. "Here's a pen."

Charles was thinking about dinner and started signing his name where indicated as fast as he could. When he reached the last page, he slowed down and it suddenly occurred to him that he might be agreeing to something he wasn't comfortable with. He flipped back through the pages, scanning them. It was mostly dense legalese, but he did find a list of toys and activities on one page. Some of the he recognized, and some he didn’t. He pondered how he could quickly delineate his boundaries, because, damn, dinner smelled good.

"Is everything alright?" Sebastian asked, mild concern on his features.

Charles' stomach growled again. Charles made a decision and flipped to the last page. Just above the last place highlighted for his signature, he wrote "NO ASS PLAY" in large block letters and then signed under it. 

Sebastian took the papers back with an odd look on his face. "No ass play," he read out loud. 

"Just no penetration," Charles clarified. "Spankings are okay. I rather them, actually." He smiled to try and lighten the effect of the text on Sebastian, because the man definitely looked unhappy. 

"Well, I will...make sure everyone knows about your...boundaries," Sebastian said. He exhaled and looked up at Charles with a forced smile. "Let's get ready for dinner."

"Oh my god, is dinner formal?" Charles asked in a panic. He hadn't brought anything resembling a suit or tuxedo.

"Not at all," Sebastian said, looking amused. "But we do make it fun. I'm going to tie your hands behind your back, and I will feed you."

Charles' eyebrows raised as his jaw dropped. That was unexpected, but it didn't sound that bad, unless..."You're not going to...restrict what or how much food I eat, are you? I'm rather hungry."

"Not if you don't want me to," Sebastian said reassuringly. "This is mostly a trust exercise. It would be nice if you would say 'Please, sir' when you want something specific...that doesn't push your _boundaries_ too much, does it?"

"No, of course not," Charles said, because it seemed pretty reasonable, all things considered - more like good manners than bondage. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Sebastian's tone, though - he put a funny emphasis on the word 'boundaries' and he seemed a little condescending about it. 

"I will even--" Sebastian retrieved from his bag a pair of fur-lined leather shackles, very similar to the ones Charles had worn once at Erik's studio. "--put a nice long length of leather between the shackles so you can scratch your nose if you need to."

Charles laughed out loud. He offered his wrists to Sebastian so he could put the shackles on, which the other man did. Charles was a little surprised but more excited than bothered when Sebastian turned him around and clipped an approximately 8-inch leather strap between the shackles behind his back. "Oh - behind my back," Charles said in surprise. "That nose-scratching comment makes more sense, then."

"How far can you reach?" Sebastian asked.

By pulling one arm far behind him to the side and bending his head down, he could just reach his nose. He grinned at Sebastian. "You've got a real talent for this," he said. 

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my boy," Sebastian said with a fond smile. Charles was glad that he seemed to have gotten over whatever he'd been upset about. 

"Time for dinner," Sebastian said. “Let’s go meet the other guests.”

Charles stomach growled, or perhaps flipped when he considered whom he might be ‘meeting’.

**

After his session with Piggy ended and Erik didn’t come out for a while, Emma went to see why. She found him lying on the bed in his studio, flat on his back, and arm across his eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked with concern. Erik was never not doing something; she had expected to find him cleaning. 

Erik sighed heavily. “I think I fucked up.”

Emma sat down on one of the love seats in the sitting area. “Is this about Charles?”

Erik pulled his arm off of his face. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you two are into each other? Yeah, it’s pretty obvious. That you should have called him sooner? Even more obvious.”

Erik sighed again. “I see that now. I think I took a little too much for granted...shit, I’m not used to...well, caring.”

Emma did have sympathy for Erik. “So what happened? He won’t answer his phone?”

“No. He texted me and said he had made last-minute plans to go out of town and said he would call me when he got back.”

Emma considered. “That’s not so bad. I mean, he’s probably not going to get married this weekend, and short of that, you can give any competition a run for his money. Or her money.”

Erik had to smile a little at that thought. He did think that he could persuade Charles to give him a chance, if he ever get the opportunity to properly apologize and explain himself. 

“So you apparently have some free time,” Emma said. “And here I am in need of practice…”

“Yeah.” Erik sighed again. “I have been neglecting your training; this is true. I’ll sub for you. I probably deserve some punishment anyway.”

Emma smiled - she really preferred when Erik subbed, instead of her, obviously. [“I’ll go easy on you,”](http://www.celebitchy.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/fassy42.jpg) she said. 

**

Dinner was an interesting affair, but it really wasn't that bad, Charles thought. There were four other people downstairs at the large dining room table, a table which could obviously accommodate several more people; Charles was introduced to Nathaniel and his sub Kevin, and to William and his sub Jean. Everyone seemed very nice and Sebastian had certainly not misled Charles about the other participants being attractive; they were all very easy on the eyes. Sebastian is actually the one who didn't fit; he was at least fifteen years than everyone else there, and the least attractive of anyone. 

Charles felt a little guilty to be thinking so uncharitably of Sebastian, but he just didn't find the man physically attractive. 

However, they had a very nice conversation over dinner; there was wine, which Sebastian offered to Charles with a glass straw, and the two of them commiserated over how gauche it was to serve wine in plastic. This led to other topics of conversation, like their favorite kinds of wine and what climates grow the best grapes for wine. Sebastian seemed to have come from a similar background to Charles, i.e., old money, and it crossed Charles mind that his mother would probably have liked Sebastian - not that that was necessarily a good thing. 

Charles thought he would feel self-conscious about being fed by Sebastian, but the other couples seemed to be doing the same thing, the doms feeding their handcuffed subs, so it didn't feel abnormal at all. The mood was light; everyone was drinking wine and there was a lot of laughter. 

Sebastian did tease Charles with a food a little bit a couple times when Charles forgot to say 'Please, sir', but he was as good as his word as far as not depriving Charles of anything he wanted to eat. However, after dinner, while they were waiting for the dessert course, Sebastian brought a knife casually to the neckline of Charles' shirt. His eyes widened in alarm until Sebastian merely used to knife to cut off the shirt Charles was wearing. 

Charles let out a shaky breath. "Jesus, Sebastian, I thought..."

"Trust, pet," Sebastian murmured, with the barest smile on his face. "I wouldn't cut you."

"Well, also, I like this shirt," Charles mumbled. “At least I used to.”

Sebastian started fondling Charles' nipples while he watched Charles' face with half a smile on it. Charles swallowed and looked at the other couples, mostly absorbed in each other. Sebastian touching his nipples wasn’t something Charles wanted just then and it made him uncomfortable, although nobody at the table seemed to think there was anything noteworthy in what Sebastian was doing. "Can you...not do that," Charles finally said, awkwardly, as he unconsciously tried to angle himself so that his nipples were less accessible. 

Sebastian didn't stop. "Pet, it's not always about what you want," he said calmly, tugging on Charles nipple a little more deliberately. "This all goes two ways, you know. Sometimes it's about what I want."

Charles frowned but Sebastian's assistant Angel arrived just then with strawberries and cream and thankfully Sebastian seemed to forget all about playing with Charles' nipples. 

By the end of dessert they had both had a lot of wine - everyone had, actually. Charles found himself feeling kind of aroused, mostly due to the wine and the the fact that his hands were still bound - and the way Sebastian watched him lick the cream off of a strawberry. "You've been very good, pet," Sebastian said to Charles, fondly. "I want to do something nice for you. Would you like a spanking?"

Charles hesitated. He didn't like that Sebastian called him pet; that was something Erik had called him and it just didn't feel right for that to come out of Sebastian's mouth. But he also didn't feel it was worth addressing. And to his more than slightly intoxicated mind, a spanking did sound very nice. He thought maybe he could close his eyes and pretend that it was...somebody else. 

"I would like a spanking," he admitted in a small voice. 

Sebastian leaned close and whispered in his ear. "Do you want it here in front of everyone, or would you rather have it in private?" When he spoke in a low voice that like, he sounded more like...who Charles wanted it to be.

"In private, please...sir."

Sebastian looked at him and a slow smile curved across his face. Charles smiled back, shyly, Sebastian helped him to his feet, as his hands were still restrained, and they bid goodnight to the rest of the diners. As they walked upstairs Charles felt something unpleasant twist in in his stomach, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Is this everyone, or are more people coming tomorrow?" Charles asked as Sebastian led him upstairs. 

"There are a few more people coming tomorrow," Sebastian said casually. Charles was walking in front of him and Sebastian was holding the strap that kept his wrists together like it was a lead. 

They got to "their" bedroom and Sebastian pushed Charles face-first over the bottom edge of the bed. Charles landed with a soft grunt, unhurt but surprised, his calves sticking out over the bottom edge of the bed, his hands still shackled together behind his back and connected with a leather strap. Sebastian roughly pulled down Charles' pants and underwear and Charles caught his breath in anticipation; he wasn’t particularly attracted to Sebastian but the man did know how to dominate and Charles found his body responding to that even when his mind was unsure. Sebastian started spanking Charles and Charles caught his breath because it was _good_ ; so much better than Charles wanted it to be. Sebastian wasn't saying anything, he was just slowly slapping Charles' bare ass with an innate understanding of exactly how hard to slap. Sebastian was being so quiet that Charles could imagine that it was someone else, that it was Erik, slapping his ass, watching his ass grow red under his hand...

Charles felt himself rutting against the bedcovers without being consciously aware he was doing it. Abruptly he was flipped over, his hands still connected to each other by a tether and trapped underneath him. Sebastian looked at him a moment. 

"You are such a perfect sub, Charles, you have no idea," Sebastian said, his eyes raking over Charles' body. "Such a good boy."

Charles involuntarily made a small whimper.

Sebastian's eyebrows rose slightly. "Oh, you like that," he breathed. "You want to be a good boy."

Charles squirmed in unhappy arousal because he _did_ want to be a good boy, but he didn't want to be a good boy for Sebastian...

"I'm going to do something for you that I rarely do, Charles," Sebastian said, and Charles kept his eyes closed because he was talking in that low voice, the voice Charles could almost pretend was Erik..."I'm going to suck your cock."

"Um," said Charles. That was farther than he really wanted to go with Sebastian. But before he could say anything else, he felt Sebastian's mouth on his cock and it felt so fucking good...

Charles came almost instantly. 

And before he could recover his breath, Sebastian had spit the come all over Charles’ chest in a spray, catching parts of his neck and face, too.

"What the fuck," Charles said in disgust. Some of it had landed high on his face and so he had his eyes squeezed shut. 

He heard Sebastian chuckle. "You look prettier that way," Charles heard him say in a smug voice. 

Charles exhaled hard in annoyance but didn't move, waiting for a towel or something...

It was a few minutes before he realized that no towel would be coming, and that Sebastian's breathing next to him had evened out into the breathing pattern of sleep. 

"Sebastian," Charles said loudly. There was no response. 

Charles huffed in annoyance. His hands were still tied and pinned behind his back and his pants were around his knees. But he realized that there was enough play in the way his hands were tied that if he wiggled and brought up his knees he could slide the strap under his hips and get his hands in front of him, and once he did that he was able to wipe his face and then unbuckle the shackles. 

He turned his head and looked at Sebastian in disgust. "Rude," he said. Sebastian made no response except for a light snore.

Charles kicked his pants off the rest of the way and went to the bathroom to clean-up. After, he looked for his luggage and couldn't find it anywhere. He frowned. He had put it right there...his phone seemed to be missing too. 

Unhappily, Charles put his underwear back on and climbed into the bed, as far away from Sebastian as he could get. As he started to fall asleep, he wondered if coming here had been a big mistake.

**

Charles awoke because the sunlight streaming into the room the next morning was blinding. Sebastian was in bed next to him regarding him with what reminded Charles uncomfortably of a lion looking at a zebra. 

“Look at how resourceful you are,” he murmured. “All cleaned up and untied this morning.”

“No thanks to you,” Charles retorted. 

Sebastian looked mildly put-out. “Oh, no. I’m sorry; most of my subs like to wear my come. I should have asked you first.”

“Technically, I was wearing _my_ come,” Charles pointed out. 

Sebastian smiled at him, a big happy smile that Charles couldn’t help returning a bit, even though he still felt very annoyed about the night before. 

“That was a communication fail on my part,” Sebastian said, looking contrite. “I was a little drunk; I apologize. I will do better.”

Charles felt mollified, even if he was still a little annoyed. “Also, where’s my stuff?”

“Oh, you won’t need that for a bit,” Sebastian said, waving his hand. “We have a greeting ceremony planned for before breakfast, and everyone is naked for that - most people choose to be naked all day, actually.”

Charles’ eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. “Naked greeting ceremony?” He said in a voice pitched higher than usual. Charles wasn’t particularly shy about his body, but the ‘ceremony’ part of it had him a little worried. 

“Oh, nothing to be intimidated about,” Sebastian said breezily. “They’re going to adore you.”

That wasn’t what Charles was worried about. 

“I will talk you through everything as we go, and if anything is pushing your boundaries, you can let me know right away,” Sebastian said in a voice that was annoyingly patronizing. 

“Good,” Charles said. “Can I at least brush my teeth?”

“You may,” Sebastian said indulgently. “There are toiletries, including several unwrapped toothbrushes, in the medicine cabinet.”

“Thank you.” Charles went to the bathroom and found the supplies and started brushing his teeth. 

“There’s time for you to shower, if you like,” Sebastian said through the door. 

That did sound good to Charles. 

He felt better after his shower; he’d had the time to sort out his mind a bit. He and Sebastian weren’t on the same wavelength a lot, but he didn’t seem like a horrible person; he was always sorry when he overstepped...well, usually sorry, Charles thought, remembering about how Sebastian had played with his nipples at dinner unapologetically the night before. But he’d also had a point that these activities were a two-way street...he remembered how Erik had come on his face, and Charles wasn’t really comfortable with that until he realized how much Erik liked it...was letting Sebastian play with his nipples that different? 

Charles was actually looking forward to meeting the rest of the other people at the house, especially if one of them ‘happened’ to be Erik... and, he was pretty sure that something called a ‘greeting ceremony’ scheduled to happen before breakfast wouldn’t be a full-fledged orgy, and he could always use his safeword if it was. 

When he came out of the shower, Sebastian was naked too. _Well, he did say everyone would be,_ Charles thought. Sebastian was actually in surprisingly good shape, and looked taller and leaner naked. 

_Maybe I could just put a bag over his head,_ Charles thought and immediately felt guilty, even though he couldn’t help smiling a bit at the idea. 

“Feeling better?” Sebastian inquired with a raised eyebrow and a light smirk. He had no doubt noticed Charles checking him out. 

Charles just smiled in response. He wasn’t completely ready to let Sebastian off the hook, after all. “Ready to hear more about this ‘greeting ceremony’,” he said. 

Sebastian smiled. “Excellent. Let’s go downstairs.”

It had been just past sunset when they’d arrived earlier, so Charles hadn’t taken particular note of the living room, but with the morning sunlight filling the [room](http://www.pinkorg.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/modern-white-interior-design-in-outstanding-mallorcan-villa-on-world-of-architecture_________.jpg) it looked [amazing](http://www.decorfox.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/modern-white-interior-design-in-outstanding-mallorcan-villa-on-world-of-architecture_____________.jpg). “This is really stunning,” Charles said under his breath.

Sebastian gave Charles an admiring look. “No, you are,” he said softly. 

Charles smiled back. 

“Would you like to wear a blindfold for the greeting ceremony?” Sebastian asked. “It’s optional.”

Charles considered. He always felt a little less inhibited wearing a blindfold, true. Although it would be a shame to give up the view. “Well, can you tell me a little bit more about the ceremony first?”

“Sure,” said Sebastian easily. “You are going to sit on my lap, facing away from me, straddling my legs. As I introduce each dom to you, you will open your mouth and allow each dom to get a sample of your no-doubt spectacular fellatio skills.”

“You want me to suck the cocks of men I’ve never met before,” Charles said flatly. Even if he knew one of those men--and wouldn’t mind sucking his cock again--that in no way meant he was comfortable doing it with others.

Sebastian just gave him a slightly puzzled look. “What were you expecting when you came here, Charles?”

Charles felt his face flush as he contemplated that he had, in fact, been extremely naive. “I’m just--not comfortable with that,” he said as evenly as he could. 

Sebastian sighed and gave him a put-out look. “Okay,” he said carefully. “How about just a lick?”

Charles shook his head. 

Sebastian scowled. “Are you willing to kiss their hands?” he said in a tone that didn’t hide how ridiculous he thought that was. 

Charles considered. “Yes, I can can do that.”

“Fine, _Princess_. Have you decided about the blindfold?” Sebastian was clearly unhappy, but Charles stuck to his guns. He was not going to have oral sex with men he’d never met before. 

“I _would_ like the blindfold,” Charles said, mostly because he didn’t want to see Sebastian looking at him that way, with...sort of a disappointed disgust. Charles was certain that Erik would make himself known to Charles even if he was blindfolded. “And I would rather not be called Princess.”

Sebastian produced a leather blindfold from somewhere - Charles hadn’t noticed him carrying it, but perhaps he had been. He put it on Charles. “Princess is the best of the names left, though,” Sebastian said into Charles ear, as he guided Charles to sitting on his lap. “The only other name unclaimed is Bitchhole, and you don’t want to be called that, do you?”

Charles’ jaw dropped in shocked disgust. “That’s absolutely ridiculous,” he snapped. Sebastian was bending down and Charles felt something around his ankles. “What are you doing?”

“This is a _bondage_ retreat, Princess,” Sebastian answered, sitting up. Charles discovered that his ankles were shackled together under Sebastian’s legs. “Or did you decide on Bitchhole?”

Charles pressed his lips together unhappily. “Goldilocks,” he said. 

“You want to be called Goldilocks? But, Charles, you’re not even blond,” Sebastian said, a distinct note of amusement in his voice. He pulled Charles’ arms behind him and before Charles understood what was happening, his wrists were crossed and being tied together behind his back.

Charles heard other people entering the room and he swallowed. “That’s the safeword you told me, Sebastian. Please untie me.” He tried not to feel panicked.

“No, it’s not,” Sebastian said calmly. “I told you that everyone here uses the same safeword, and that word was clearly indicated in the document you signed - in several places, in fact. You did read it, didn’t you?”

Charles was shocked speechless. He made an indignant sound.

Sebastian leaned close and spoke placatingly to the back of his ear. “Charles. The other doms are here. I can tell you are unhappy with me, but I think you are overreacting. Can we talk about it after you kiss their hands in greeting?”

Charles was trembling with anger, but he also felt like making a scene would be worse. “Fine,” he said bitterly.

Sebastian kept talking. “I’m going to formally introduce each dom, you say, ‘I look forward to serving you,’ and then kiss the hand that is presented to you. Do you think you can do that?”

Charles didn’t reply, sulking. Sebastian pinched his nipple. Charles yelped. “Yes, ow,” he said in annoyance. 

Sebastian chuckled. “You are delightfully rebellious, do you know that?”

Charles resolved not to say anything to that even if he nipple did get pinched again. Fortunately, it did not. 

“Master Nathaniel, may I introduce Princess Charles.”

Charles felt his face flushing. He wanted to be anywhere but where he was. “I look forward to serving you,” he muttered and kissed the hand that was presented to him...and knew immediately that it was a penis.

Charles felt mortified and angry and his breathing got harder as his anger grew. “I think he likes you, Master Nathaniel,” Sebastian said, his voice sounding pleased and oily.

“Fuck this,” Charles said, and struggled to get his hands out of their bond. He felt Sebastian’s hand start to pinch his nipple and stiffened. 

“Charles, you’re embarrassing me,” Sebastian snapped, low in his ear. “Do try to behave, or you will be punished later, and not just by me pinching your nipples.”

It suddenly occurred to Charles what a bad position he was in. He was literally under Sebastian’s complete control. He thought about what punishment Sebastian might be talking about and he suddenly felt very, very cautious and scared in a way he hadn’t felt before that moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, hating himself for caving, but afraid of what might happen if he didn’t.

“Good,” Sebastian said soothingly, and he suddenly seemed much happier. “Master Ja-Joe, may I introduce Princess Charles.” 

“I look forward to serving you,” Charles mumbled and kissed what he knew was a penis, telling himself at least this was not as bad as it could have been.

Charles was introduced to two more doms in this way, Aaron and William. Then Sebastian unbuckled his ankles and told Charles to stand up. Charles did. He thought about running, but he could feel that Sebastian still had a firm grip on his wrists and where would he run to, anyway, naked as he was?

Sebastian moved out from behind Charles and directed him to sit down again. Charles numbly followed the order and felt Sebastian doing something to his ankles under the chair - yes, they were tied together again. 

“I need to go and greet the other subs,” Sebastian explained, as he pulled Charles’ wrists apart and re-tied them behind the chair back. “It may take a little longer, as I expect most of them to be a little more generous than you.”

Sebastian walked away. 

Charles didn’t like being left tied up and alone. He heard sounds from another room, the sounds of greeting, introductions, happy laughter...he wondered if he was being unreasonable. What _had_ he expected, anyway? And it’s not like Charles hadn’t given head before. He had, a lot, and he was good at it. 

He realized he was mostly annoyed that Sebastian had _known_ that Charles meant to say a safeword - even if Charles didn’t know the exact one, should that have really mattered to Sebastian? 

The longer Charles sat there, tied up and blindfolded, the more he realized that even negative attention from Sebastian was preferable to feeling alone and forgotten. He tried not to get more upset than was reasonable, but he felt tears start to come to his eyes.

It seemed like much, much later that Sebastian finally came back for him. “Hey, are you alright?” Sebastian asked softly, kneeling and untying his ankles.

“I don’t like being left alone,” Charles admitted. He hated how desperate his voice sounded. He was already naked and now he felt his emotions were naked, too.

“Oh, Charles, I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, and he really did sound sorry. “That did take a little longer than I expected. And I’m really sorry about the safeword thing earlier; I was a little distracted by my responsibilities to everyone else. The group safeword for this weekend is ‘I’m a little teapot’. I was just coming to take you to breakfast, and the protocol is that subs are again fed by their doms; but if you would like, I can have someone bring you food in the bedroom?”

Sebastian had untied Charles’ hands, too. Charles stood up. He actually didn’t want to take his blindfold off; he still felt a little ashamed to look Sebastian in the eye, although he wasn’t quite sure why that was. Eating alone didn’t really appeal to him, either - he’d just been alone. 

“I--I’ll eat with you,” he said, finally, a little reluctantly. “Will you just call me Charles, though?”

He heard Sebastian sigh, a little. “Okay, Charles,” he agreed softly. He re-tied Charles’ hands behind his back, which Charles hadn’t been expecting, except that apparently that was part of doms feeding their subs. 

Sebastian led Charles back to the dining room, and the two of them were greeted by a round of cheers. Charles smiled shyly when he realized the cheers were for him. “Master Sebastian said you might have breakfast in your room,” Charles heard a female voice say next to him. “We’re glad you’re joining us.” The words were spoken with a smile, and Charles thought it was Jean that he had met the night before. 

“Am I the only one who’s blindfolded?” Charles asked. 

“Yes, but it’s fine if that’s what you like,” Jean said. 

Charles nudged Sebastian. “Will you take my blindfold off?”

Sebastian seemed to hesitate. “What do you say?”

Charles suddenly felt the man was hiding something from him. “Please, sir, remove my blindfold,” he said firmly.

Sebastian removed his blindfold and Charles blinked at the bright light. Once his vision adjusted, he saw that the crowd of people sitting around the table had approximately doubled since the night before; there were five dom/sub pairs, including himself and Sebastian. All were at least topless and appeared to be naked from what Charles could see over the table. The next thing he saw was what he was sure Sebastian hadn’t wanted him to see: Azazel and Janos. neither man was looking at him, but Charles turned to Sebastian immediately. “You told me they wouldn’t be here,” he hissed. 

Sebastian held up a bite of scrambled egg on a fork. Charles accepted it because he was hungry. “They will behave perfectly, Charles, or they will face the consequences. And if _you_ are not looking forward to what kind of punishment I might dole out - think how much worse that must be for a dom.”

“But you told me they wouldn’t be here,” Charles said, accepting a sip of orange juice from a straw. 

Sebastian frowned a little, like he was trying to recall something. “Did I? Well, perhaps that’s because they are last-minute replacements for other doms who couldn’t make it.” He offered Charles a bite of bacon, but Charles hesitated. 

“Was one of those doms Erik Lehnsherr?” Charles asked. “You - implied to me he might be here.”

Sebastian gave Charles a thoughtful look and offered the bacon again. Charles accepted it this time. “I’m certain that I didn’t. I know Erik, of course, but he hasn’t been to one of my retreats in a very long time.”

“You said there might be a dom I know here,” Charles said with a frown. 

“Well, you know Azazel and Janos, and me,” Sebastian said in a reasonable tone. He offered Charles another bite of egg. 

Charles accepted it, and as he chewed he realized that Sebastian wasn’t making any sense. He had definitely told Charles Azazel and Janos wouldn’t there, and his reference to a ‘dom Charles might know’ certainly hadn’t referred to them...Charles suddenly realized that Sebastian had been deliberately deceptive in order to get Charles to agree to come with him. 

He stared at Sebastian with a deeply furrowed brow, completely ignoring the bite of toast Sebastian was offering him. He was sure that accusing Sebastian of lying wouldn’t go over well, but he didn’t need the man to confess that. What he really wanted to know was _why_.

“Why?” he asked Sebastian in a whisper, his eyes searching the other man’s. “What was so important about having me here?”

Sebastian looked at him with a remarkably tender expression. “You really have no idea,” he murmured, brushing a lock of Charles’ hair. “You are one of the most spectacular subs I’ve ever worked with, Charles. You are...well.” He smiled. “To tell you all the qualities that make you so wonderful might ruin some of them, I’m afraid. Let’s just say you are the perfect balance of qualities one looks for in a submissive.”

Charles accepted the bit of toast, feeling pleased despite himself at the praise and wondering desperately what qualities he had that he couldn’t know about or they would be ruined?

Charles suddenly realized that only he was eating. The night before, Sebastian had alternated bites of food between the two of them, but now, he was only feeding Charles. “Did you already eat?” he asked.

“I’m going to eat after you,” Sebastian replied. “Are you done?” 

“Yes, I think so,” Charles said. He hadn’t eaten that much but he hadn’t had much of an appetite. He looked around and most of the other subs seemed to be done, too. 

“Excellent,” Shaw said with a fond smile. He raised his voice enough that it was apparent that he was addressing the whole table. “Slaves, you will find that there has been a cushion placed on the floor under your master’s feet. You will now kneel on that and service your master’s cock until he has finished his breakfast.”

Charles gave Sebastian a wide-eyed look, his lips pressed together. 

Sebastian gave him a look that was almost pity. “Charles, really. I sucked your cock last night. Is this really something you’ve never done before? Is it that big a deal?”

Jean, on Charles’ other side was wriggling under the table almost eagerly, and Charles swallowed to see the other subs reacting in much the same way. And it wasn’t that he objected to doing it...he just would have rather have been doing it with someone else. 

“Charles,” Sebastian said softly. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, but as the leader of this group I will be embarrassed if you don’t at least just kneel on the cushion under the table and wait for everyone else to be done. I’ll be disappointed, of course,” he said, with a sour look and a sigh, “but as you’ve demonstrated, generosity is not one of your values.”

Charles felt guilty and he felt angry that he felt guilty. He crept under the table and kneeled at Shaw’s feet, not sucking his cock, even though it was right in front of his face, half hard. Jean nudged him with her foot and gave him a questioning glance, in between licks of the cock in front of her. Charles watched her for a moment and started to feel aroused despite himself. 

Charles looked Sebastian’s cock and he found himself wanting to suck it, despite how Sebastian could be an utter bastard sometimes. Charles really enjoyed giving head, after all, and the circumstances were kind of arousing, hearing the sounds from all around him of other mouths on other cocks...and Sebastian was nicer to him when he got what he wanted, that was undeniable. Charles sighed and tentatively licked a tongue out to touch Sebastian’s cock, which was almost immediately more erect. 

Sebastian reached a hand down to stroke Charles’ hair. He sighed with pleasure. “Good boy,” he murmured and Charles felt a tiny prick of pleasure at the words, and took Sebastian’s cock in his mouth, even as a part of him was protesting. Charles pushed that protesting voice down to be dealt with later. Right now, his job was to lick and suck a cock, and he didn't have to think to do that well.

Above the table, Sebastian seemed to be giving some kind of lecture to the other doms. Topics of his talk varied, but it seemed that he was advising the other doms of the importance of both appreciating when a sub was good and punishing them when they were bad - and punishment could be as subtle as a facial expression. He counseled them not to be confused about what was punishment to a sub and what was not - a good sub liked a spanking, so that was not a punishment. Appropriate punishments, according to Sebastian, were the things on the cusps of what subs liked and what they didn’t - for instance, he said, if a sub’s worst nightmare is bloodplay, then a few shallow cuts would straighten them right up. 

Charles’ felt real fear as his imagination spun off into what kind of punishments Sebastian might think were appropriate for him. He was distracted enough that even though he was still sucking Sebastian’s cock his attention drifted from the conversation happening above his head a bit, but he tuned in again when Sebastian was giving his dom-students a ‘tip’ - if a sub begs for something in a scene that they had said previously they didn’t want, unprompted, that is probably what will make they come the hardest. 

Charles worried about that but he couldn’t imagine himself changing his mind mid-scene about what he wanted, or begging for anything that he wouldn't actually want, and then he remembered when Erik had him in suspension bondage, and Charles had been willing to promised him daily blowjobs if Erik had been willing to put even a finger in his ass…

It was kind of a happy memory, and it kind of hurt to be having it with Sebastian’s cock in his mouth. 

After what seemed like a very long time, Sebastian pushed away from the table and smiled down at him. “Very good, Charles,” he said, and he looked exceptionally happy. “I’m really pleased with your choice to do that.” Then he looked down at Charles' crotch. “Look at that. And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

Charles was embarrassed to realized he had an erection. “You didn’t come,” Charles pointed out, to cover his embarrassment. 

Sebastian smiled and helped Charles to his feet. “Oh, we have a lot on the agenda for today,” he said. “You’ll have plenty of chances to beg for my come.”

Charles looked down. He really didn’t want to do that, but he also didn’t want to find out what Sebastian meant by punishment. 

“You were so good, Charles, that I’m going to give you a special treat,” Sebastian continued. “Have you ever played with wax before?”

“I like wax,” Charles admitted, biting his lip. All the more appealing because he wouldn't be expected to touch Sebastian or his cock.

“I thought you might,” Sebastian said, with a knowing smile. “Unfortunately, I have some obligations to the other subs - we’re going to engage in some ass play, Charles; butt plugs and vibrators and what-not...but you don’t want that, do you?”

Charles did actually _like_ that, but he didn’t want it, not here, not from Sebastian. “No, I don’t,” he agreed, trying not to sound too confrontational. He didn’t want to piss Sebastian off. 

“Well, unfortunately that means I’m going to have to leave you alone for a bit,” he said, his voice full of regret. “And per the rules of this event, I will need to leave you tied up and blindfolded. But I have a nice comfy bed to put you on, and I will come back to you as soon as possible. Okay?”

Charles wasn’t happy with that, but it still sounded better then offering his ass up to the mercy of all the doms...a group which included Azazel and Janos. “Okay,” he said unhappily. 

“Good boy,” Shaw said soothingly, and Charles hated that it made it a little better to hear that. 

He put the blindfold back on Charles and he was as good as his word, leading Charles to a soft bed. Charles was still wearing the fur-lined leather cuffs that he had been wearing at the greeting ceremony that morning, and Shaw tied them to something at the corners of the bed so that Charles was spread-eagle, face down. 

“There, now you’re all ready for the wax later,” Sebastian murmured. Charles tugged on his restraints and he couldn’t deny that he felt aroused to be tied up. 

He decided to take a nap, because what else was he going to do? At least it was comfortable to do so because he was on a bed, and it made the waiting more bearable. 

**

Charles woke with a jolt as something stung his ass. “Oww,” he complained loudly. 

“Well hello there,” he heard Sebastian say, with an amused sound in his voice. “Sounds like you are back with us.”

“Yes, I’m awake,” Charles said irritably. “What the fuck was that?”

“Oh, you mean this?” 

Charles yelped again as he felt another spot of intense pain blossom on his ass, a spot that felt no larger than a pencil eraser. 

“Ow, fuck, yes,” Charles said, squirming. “That hurts.”

“This is the wax you wanted, Charles,” Sebastian said calmly, and Charles felt another drip land just then and hissed through his teeth at the pain. 

“That really hurts,” Charles side, grimacing, his face to the side. “Do you have any candles with--with a lower melting point? Jesus, _ow_ , he added as Sebastian chose that moment to land another drip. 

“That would defeat the point, Charles,” Sebastian said, still in a maddeningly calm voice. “And I would stop squirming so much if I were you - I might miss and get it on your balls.”

Charles immediately held still, whining as he felt another painful drop hit. 

“Because the point of this, Charles, is probably not what you expected. This isn’t a punishment; no, this is communication.” Another drop dripped on Charles’ ass and he gritted his teeth and felt tears come to his eyes. “The wax has to be hot enough to leave a mark that will last a couple days. You see, I don’t want there to be any _misunderstandings._ ”

“What are you talking about?” Charles gasped desperately, trying not to sob. Fuck, those drops _hurt_. 

“I’m leaving a message, Charles,” Shaw said calmly, as Charles tensed and held his breath in anticipation of the next drop. “I’m spelling out ‘NO ASS PLAY’ on your ass.” And then the next drop did fall. 

“What?” Charles cried. “You’re--writing on my ass?”

“Top marks,” Sebastian said, and then chuckled. “That was a pun, get it?”

A drop of pain landed on Charles’ ass. “Please, please stop,” he gasped. 

“Although, ‘bottom marks’ would be a better pun, and a double entendre,” Shaw mused to himself as yet another drop fell on Charles’ behind. 

“Stop it right now!” Charles yelled, and suddenly remembered the safeword. “I’m a little teapot!”

Sebastian didn’t say anything, but another drop didn’t come, either. 

He heard Sebastian sigh. “I know this hurts, Charles, but I didn’t think it hurt _that_ much. I am really am trying to do you a favor. Things may get--crazy, later, and I don’t want any dom to sodomize you accidentally.”

Charles sniffled. A part of him understood Sebastian’s logic, but still it fucking _hurt._

“Can you try to be a good boy for me?” Sebastian whispered, stroking Charles back. “I’ll put ice on it after, and I will even give you some pain relievers. I honestly think this is the best way to comply with your wishes.”

Charles took a few deep breaths. “I may yell out,” he said. He didn’t know how he would keep that in. 

“Would you like a gag?”

Charles let out a laugh that was half a sob. Finally, he was offered a gag. “Yes,” he said. 

Sebastian approached his face. “Open wide,” he said softly. Charles did and found his mouth propped open by what felt like a [ball gag](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41avf33Im4L.jpg) \- a ball attached to a strap that split into a Y to go on either side of his ears and buckled behind his head. 

Despite the pain, Charles felt a little aroused at having one of his biggest fantasies finally fulfilled and remembered something Erik had said about a pain threshold being higher when a person was aroused, so he let himself think the sexiest thing he could - that it was Erik in here with him, marking him, making Charles take some pain in anticipation of future reward…

Charles felt a drop hit him, and it seemed not quite as bad as before - still painful, but more tolerable. 

Sebastian continued, making soothing and apologetic sounds soft enough that Charles could pretend he was someone else, for a while, until the accumulation of pain from his ass was overwhelming and he couldn’t feel aroused anymore, and he just sobbed. 

He was barely in touch with reality when Sebastian finally stopped dripping wax on him. Sebastian untied him and rolled Charles onto his side where Charles lay as limp as a rag doll, crying helplessly. He barely heard Sebastian’s whispered instructions to someone to bring him ice but then he felt the ice on his burning ass and he let out a moan of appreciation, still sniffling. Sebastian carefully removed the ball gag, and Charles reached up to rub at his aching jaw. 

“Oh my pet, I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Sebastian said, petting Charles' hair, and he sounded sincerely upset about it. “I’m sorry you had to have that pain, but honestly, you cry so beautifully that I can’t regret it completely.”

Charles kept sobbing even as Sebastian held him in his arms. Charles didn’t want to reciprocate his affection. He just lay there until his tears finally stopped and he felt like a husk: empty. He felt nothing except the burning on his ass. 

“Do you want a pain reliever?” Sebastian whispered. 

Charles nodded, still wearing his blindfold, although his hands and feet had been untied. He didn’t want to see Sebastian. He didn’t think he could bear to look anyone in the eye at that moment.

“Open your mouth,” Sebastian said softly. 

Charles complied without even thinking about it. 

Sebastian put something in his mouth and then was holding up something with a straw. “This is water. Drink.”

Charles obediently drank and then his brain caught up to what his body was doing. “What--did you--did you just drug me?" 

Sebastian was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, there was a hard edge to his voice that Charles had not heard before. “I gave you Tylenol, Charles. I’m getting really tired of you fighting me at every turn. I just did you a huge fucking favor - probably saved your ass from getting raped - and this is the thanks I get?”

Charles started to get incensed. “You call this a huge fucking favor?” he said, starting to raise his voice. 

Sebastian slapped him across the face, hard. 

Charles’ jaw dropped in shock and he felt the ball gag get roughly shoved in again and get buckled tightly behind his head.

“You little fucking bitch,” Shaw spat. “I tried to be nice to you. I’m doing everything I can to stay within your frankly fucking ridiculous _boundaries_. I was going to let you recover from this on your stomach for a while, but I think you need a time-out to contemplate having little bit of _fucking gratitude_ , and I think the best place for you to do that is sitting on your ass on a hard wooden chair.”

Terror ripped through Charles’ body at hearing Sebastian’s words. He wanted to take it all back and beg for forgiveness but there was a ball gag in his mouth. He reached up to yank off his blindfold but Sebastian yanked him to his feet and slung him over his shoulder. 

Charles had the wind knocked out of him by the unexpected maneuver and he could do nothing but try to breathe and brace his hands on Sebastian's torso so that he could try and get some air into his diaphragm as the other man carried him somewhere, muttering. He roughly dumped Charles ass-first onto a hard wooden chair and Charles screamed at the pain of his already-sore ass landing on the hard wood. 

Charles was so distracted by the pain and trying to catch his breath that he didn’t notice Sebastian was buckling his wrists and ankle shackles to the chair, his hands behind him and his feet spread to the sides, attaching them to the chair in a way that meant he wouldn’t able to stand or walk or have the use of his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he tried to say through the gag, but it just came out as a muffled moan.

“I think you’re trying to apologize, Charles, and while I do appreciate that, you will never learn unless I can actually carry out a punishment on you,” Sebastian said sternly. “I want you to sit here and think of some things a good boy would do to make it up to me. I’ll be back for you in a couple hours.”

Charles sobbed as he heard Sebastian’s footsteps walking away. As evil as Sebastian was, Charles didn’t want to be left alone. He was in hell; why had he ever come to this horrible place? He wondered if Sebastian had really given him just Tylenol and felt horribly guilty if that was true, and he probably deserved the punishment he was getting...but what if Sebastian _had_ drugged him? But why would he do that, unless he just wanted to fuck Charles in the ass...but then why would he have gone through all the trouble of writing “No ass play” on Charles’ ass in marks...marks which still hurt, he sure hoped that Tylenol kicked in soon…

Charles had trouble keeping his thoughts logical or linear. He had no reference for time and he was doubting everything that his senses told him...he was cold but his ass was hot, that didn’t make sense...was he drugged, or just going insane?

He found himself slipping in and out of reality. He was sitting on a hard wooden chair, in pain, but then he was at the Hellfire Club trapped in a closet...then he was at Erik’s tiny apartment, and Erik was kissing him but he turned into Shaw and Charles pushed him away in revulsion and then Shaw slapped him and then Charles was back in the hard chair with his ass in agony.

Someone touched his shoulder after what felt like an eternity, hours at least, and Charles flinched away. “Charles?” A soft male voice said. 

“Erik?” Charles said, except that it was muffled by the gag. The man removed the gag. 

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Charles,” the man said. “I’m going to give you the opportunity to show me you have.”

Charles could barely follow the man’s words. He knew it wasn’t Erik - it was - someone else, someone Charles should be afraid of but he was just absurdly grateful to have human contact again, to be able to touch someone and know they weren't a figment of his imagination. He was untied and led downstairs, still wearing the blindfold. He entered a room with many people in it and he heard some gasps and delighted sounds when he entered the room. 

“This evening’s entertainment will be provided by Princess Charles,” Sebastian said to the room. “But you can call him Bitchhole if he’s bad. He was just punished for being bad, though, so I think it’s out of his system. Are you going to be bad, Bitchhole?”

Charles kept his head down even though his eyes were covered and shook his head. 

“Excellent,” said Sebastian. “Turn around and show them your ass so they understand.”

Charles dutifully turned around and heard giggles and soft chuckles behind him. He thought he should be embarrassed but all he cared about was being good enough not to be punished again. 

He was then led onto a padded table of some kind, on his back, but with his knees up. Charles was grateful for that because there wasn’t so much pressure on his aching ass that way. His head was hanging off the edge of the table as his hands were tied down, spread apart. His ankles still had shackles on them and there was [some kind of bar](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9e/Spreader_bar_with_cuffs.jpg) between them that kept his knees apart. Something that was probably rope, running parallel to his body, was keeping the bar close to his body, which ultimately kept his legs bent. 

“You look so beautiful like this, Charles,” someone said close to his ear, in a low breathy voice. “Like an angel. You want to be a good boy, don’t you?”

“Yes, I want to be good, Erik, I want to be so good for you,” Charles whispered, his perception of what was happening moving in and out of reality again, though he finally finding a happy thought, a happy place to be in his mind. 

“Do you want to suck my cock, Charles?”

“Yes, sir,” Charles breathed and then there was a cock in his mouth and Charles was licking it eagerly, sucking it into his mouth and losing himself in pleasing Erik…

Charles heard murmurs of appreciation all around him but he didn’t care, he only wanted to please Erik, to make Erik come...

He felt a hand on his cock and he made an unhappy sound, twisting away. 

“Be a good boy, Charles,” Erik breathed, starting to fuck his face. “Let them touch you.”

Charles stopped fighting it, then; he stopped fighting anything. People were pinching and pulling on his nipples, fondling and licking his balls; cock after cock was shoved into his mouth and Charles licked and sucked them all, swallowed load after load of semen, his higher reasoning gone - all that existed were cocks and mouths and hands and Charles did whatever they all wanted just to hear Erik say, "good boy."

**

Charles woke up in a bed, alone. He was not tied up. His ass and his jaw were sore. He sat up carefully. He had a headache and seemed to be a bit dehydrated. 

Sebastian entered the room, fully dressed and beaming. “Good morning, Charles!”

Charles just looked at him. It was jarring, to see this man who had treated him so brutally the night before just acting like everything was normal and fine.

Or had he? Everything from the day before now seemed like a horrific nightmare. Had all of that actually happened? Had _any_ of it actually happened?

Charles tried to speak and found that his throat was too dry. Sebastian seemed to understand and passed him an open water bottle, from which Charles drank with reluctant gratitude. 

“What--what happened last night?” He finally asked. 

Sebastian gave him an affectionate look. “What happened is that you were marvellous, Charles. Absolutely incredible. I’m so glad all my hard work paid off.”

Charles took another sip from the water bottle, feeling uneasy. “I don’t--”

“You don’t remember?” Sebastian cocked his head and looked at Charles.

“I--” What he did remember didn’t seem marvelous. “Was Erik here?”

A cloud crossed Sebastian’s face. “No,” he said gently. “But you were a very good boy.”

Charles inhaled as the words made some of the details came back to him. He had essentially been at the center of an orgy. He had sucked so many cocks he had lost track, and he couldn’t even remember or understand why he would have wanted to do that. “Oh, god,” he said, putting his face in his hand. “I can’t believe I did that.” He looked up at Sebastian again, as he realized what must have happened. “You drugged me,” he said, in horrified accusation. 

Sebastian crossed his arms and looked at Charles. With a jerky motion, he opened the nightstand drawer and tossed a small white bottle to Charles, who hastily moved to catch it. “Tylenol,” he said flatly. “Go ahead; look inside. Every pill in there is tylenol.”

Charles opened the bottle and all the pills he saw appeared to be just Tylenol, as Sebastian had said. Although, of course that proved nothing.

“What you experienced wasn’t being drugged, Charles,” Sebastian said, speaking as one would to a child. “That was called subspace. It’s a mental state that subs can find themselves in when they are at their most submissive. It’s an enviable place to be, to be honest, and not a lot of subs can get there. Did you feel floaty, willing to do anything that was asked of you?”

“Yes,” Charles whispered. 

Sebastian smiled. “That’s subspace, Charles. I had no need to drug you.”

Charles just looked at him and swallowed. “I want to go home.”

“Well, luckily for you, that’s all that’s on the agenda for today,” Sebastian said. “Oh, and here’s your luggage.”

Apparently it had just gotten kicked under the bed. Charles felt foolish. 

"Do you want to eat breakfast first, or do you just want to leave?"

Charles didn't think he'd had lunch or dinner the day before, but he didn't care. "I just want to leave." At the look on Sebastian’s face, he lowered his eyes. “Please, sir,” he mumbled.

Sebastian smiled. “Of course, pet,” he said. Charles picked up his luggage and took it downstairs, feeling Sebastian's eyes on him the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaw (Sebastian, as Charles knows him) takes Charles to his opulent house in the Hamptons and cajoles and entices and threatens and otherwise manipulates Charles into doing more and more things that Charles is not comfortable with: i.e., the consent becomes more and more dubious. There is a little bit of violence; Shaw slaps Charles at one point. Neither the violence nor the sex is particularly graphic, but the overall effect of the chapter is very creepy and disturbing. Shaw keeps Charles mentally unbalanced and finally Charles just loses touch with reality a bit and thinks Erik's there (he's not). It's hard to give a blow-by-blow description that wouldn't be equally as creepy, to be honest, but if you have specific questions you can [ask me on tumblr](http://mc-meow-avoy-fassbender.tumblr.com/ask) and I would be happy to answer them privately.
> 
> (You can skip this chapter if this isn't your thing and the story will still make sense.)


	7. Back in Manhattan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning in end notes

Charles put his and Sebastian’s luggage in the trunk of the car while Sebastian bid everyone farewell. Charles didn’t really want to speak to anyone in the house. He didn’t know who he had done what with, and he didn’t want to think about it, let alone deal with any potentially snarky comments from the other doms and subs. 

Charles seated himself carefully in the car as he could still feel the pain from the wax Sebastian had put on his ass the day before. Sebastian smiled at him as they pulled out of the driveway, but Charles just looked away. Sebastian glanced over at Charles after a few minutes of tense silence. “What’s wrong, my pet?” he said gently after a few minutes. 

Charles made a scoffing sound and shook his head, looking out the window, away from Sebastian. “I can’t tell you how ridiculous that question is.”

Charles pulled out his phone and saw, no surprise, that it was dead. He looked at it unhappily and Sebastian saw where he was looking. 

“Is that an iPhone 6? I have a compatible charger.” 

Charles didn’t want to accept anything from Sebastian but his phone was his lifeline. He nodded brusquely and Sebastian got out the cord. It was short enough that the phone had to sit in the center console, but Charles kept his eye on it so he would know the minute it came back to life. 

“So,” Sebastian said after a few more minutes of Charles doing nothing but watching his phone like a hawk. “Tonight at the club we’ll be having a roundtable discussion so everyone can give feedback about the weekend. Do you want to come?”

Charles barked out a short, derisive laugh. “I really don’t think so.”

Sebastian gave him a hard look, one Charles recognized, one that made his skin prickle with cold sweat. When he spoke, though, Sebastian’s voice was even and relaxed. “Remember, Charles, giving feedback is an important part of the trust process.”

“Trust process?” Charles turned to look at Sebastian for the first time since he’d gotten into the car, incredulously. “You are unbelievable. I don’t trust you at all. If anything this weekend was about establishing _trust_ with me, then you failed miserably.”

Sebastian didn’t respond for a moment, keeping his eyes on the road. “I know you are experiencing some pretty intense Sub Drop right now, Charles, but I am feeling very impatient with your attitude.”

There was an implied threat in Sebastian’s words. Charles swallowed and didn’t respond, looking out his window again. 

“Have you considered that you should feel grateful to me?”

Charles held his tongue. 

“You said ‘no ass play’, Charles. And I went out of my way to protect your ass, even when you were out of your mind and begging for it like a _little fucking whore_. I respected that boundary and I made sure everyone else did, too. Do you remember begging everyone to fuck you in the ass? You told us you would do anything, someone asked if you would take two cocks in your ass Charles and you said _yes_ , Charles.” Sebastian shook his head in disgust, checking his mirror as he changed lanes. “People like you need a dom or they end up fucking everything in sight and dying from diseases.”

Charles felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t remember all of what Sebastian was saying happening, but enough of it rang true that he brought his hand to his mouth. “I did that?” he whispered. He wanted to protest that he was not a whore but he felt the evidence to the contrary that Sebastian could shove in his face was overwhelming. 

Sebastian glanced at Charles’ face and seemed to realize he’d gone too far. “Hey, hey,” he said, patting Charles on the knee. “There’s nothing wrong with being a submissive whore. It doesn’t mean you can’t hold a job. It just means the only kinds of relationships you will find fulfilling are those where someone is telling you what to do or not to do - usually in bed, but sometimes in other facets of your life.”

Charlee felt numb. He didn’t want to believe Sebastian but his confidence had been completely battered and he didn’t know what to think. 

“Charles,” Sebastian said, and his voice had authority in it, “Sit up.”

Charles sat up. He hadn’t realized he’d been slouching. 

“Take three deep breaths, slowly, in and out,” Sebastian continued in a firm voice. “That will help with the Sub Drop.”

Charles did the breathing exercise. He didn’t really see the point in fighting, and he did feel a little better afterwards.“What is Sub Drop?” he finally asked.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s a period of physically and emotionally negative feelings that can be experienced after an intense BDSM session,” he said. “I thought you’d scened before?”

“I have. It never happened before,” Charles said, although he did remember having a bad day after the time he and Erik hooked up (the one real time.) But there had been several reasons he’d had a bad day. He frowned, trying to remember. 

“It doesn’t happen every time,” Sebastian said in a tone that clearly said he wanted to add the word ‘obviously’, but he refrained. “That’s why I said ‘can’.” He glanced at Charles. “Go ahead. Look it up.”

Charles’ phone flashed as it decided it had enough juice to reboot itself. Charles picked it up and did his best to hold it at an angle where it could remain plugged in and he could see if he had received any calls, or texts…

Nothing. He tried to swallow his disappointment. He gave Sebastian a considering look and looked up [’Sub Drop’](http://chicomunch.com/publ/basic_info_about_bdsm/bdsm_101_subspace_aftercare_and_sub_drop_and_sometimes_top_drop/1-1-0-23) on his iPhone. There was also a description of subspace there, and Charles took the time to read the whole page before he put his phone down. So Sebastian was telling the truth, at least about those things. 

And Erik hadn’t called or texted him. Not that Charles had expected him to, but…

“You know Erik Lehnsherr, right?”

Charles nearly jumped. It felt like Sebastian read his mind and he really hated that. “Yes,” he said cautiously.

“Is your relationship with him...professional? Or personal?”

“None of your business,” Charles responded. He wouldn’t have answered the question for Sebastian even if he’d known what the answer was. 

Sebastian didn’t say anything for a while, as he navigated through traffic that was becoming thicker and thicker. “You don’t know that much about him, do you?”

Charles wasn’t going to take that bait. He just looked out his window. He felt tense and brittle talking about Erik, as the very idea of him was something Charles had been holding onto and guarding as his one happy thought: the chance that Erik wanted to be with him, or at least give him a chance. 

“Erik used to be my most promising apprentice, you know,” Sebastian said conversationally as he drove, looking at the road. “But we split, on...let’s just say bad terms. He thinks he knows everything there is to know about BDSM, and he thinks I’m Satan.” Sebastian chuckled. “I will never stop being a student, Charles. I learn with every session. I learned a lot from you this weekend.”

Charles frowned. “What did you learn from me?”

Sebastian gave him a disturbingly sweet smile. “If I told you, it would ruin it.”

Charles sighed heavily. He was sick of Sebastian’s head games. 

“You know about all his rules, right?” Sebastian said. 

Charles shifted uncomfortably. “Sort of,” he said. Erik had made a few oblique references, but he hadn’t really explained about anything about rules other than the rules of his studio. Maybe that’s what Sebastian meant.

“Erik has this idea that he has to live within some very rigid _rules_ of his own creation,” Sebastian said, rolling his eyes, making it clear what his opinion of said lifestyle was. “Anyway, as I mentioned, he hates me. If he knew you and I had scened together...well, he’d be pretty disgusted. If he knew that we had gone away together for the weekend, well…” Sebastian smiled, a little. “I doubt he’d want to have anything to do with you. He won’t touch anyone I’ve touched, like you’re damaged goods or something. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Charles felt like he was sinking into a hole, like Sebastian’s voice was getting farther and farther away from him. “Stop it,” he said. 

Sebastian didn’t seem to hear him. “I mean, I can kind of see his point,” he mused. “We all used you pretty thoroughly--except for your ass, of course--and now you can barely keep your head up. You _are_ damaged goods.”

“Stop the car,” Charles said. 

Sebastian gave him a puzzled look. “Charles, we’re hours away from Manhattan,” he said reasonably. 

“ _STOP THE FUCKING CAR!_ ”

Charles could hardly believe the voice coming out of him. Sebastian’s lips tightened and he yanked the car to the side of the road, cutting off a car that honked angrily behind him. 

The moment the car was stopped, Charles opened his door and got out of it and walked around to get his luggage out of the trunk.

Sebastian’s BMW peeled out with a screech of tires, not even bothering to close the passenger door, leaving Charles on the side of the road without his luggage. 

Or his phone. 

Charles just stood on the side of the highway breathing for a moment. Despite not having his phone or luggage, it just felt so good not to be in the presence of that horrible man anymore that he took a moment to bask in the feeling of freedom. Then he sighed and took stock of what he had. He had the T-shirt he was wearing, khakis, socks and shoes, and his wallet. His wallet had some cash, his identification, and some credit cards in it. He breathed a sigh of relief. He could get home with this. 

He spotted some fast food restaurants about a half mile away, off the side of the highway, and started walking. 

It took some sweet talking, but Charles could put on charm like he put on a jacket, even after the weekend he’d had. He convinced the cashier at a Taco Bell that he reached after about thirty minutes of walking to let him use her cell phone, from which he called a cab company and convinced them that he was serious and willing to pay the cost for a cab ride into Manhattan (he was still about 65 miles away). 

He bought himself some cheap lunch while he waited, and although it ultimately took a few hours, he managed to be in a cab and was headed back towards Manhattan by about 2pm. 

**

Charles jolted awake when the cabbie spoke. It was dark, but only just, so Charles thought it might be around 6pm. He raised his head blearily, almost expecting to see Sebastian, but it was just the cabby wanting him to pay a fare of almost $400. Charles took care of it and gave the guy a generous tip. He yawned as he walked up the steps to his house, where he realized two things: 1) his house keys were in his luggage, in Sebastian’s trunk; and 2) there was a note on his front door. 

Charles heart pounded as he opened the note. He hoped…

_Charles, i couldn't reach you on your phone. I would like to talk to you. I'll be at the Hellfire Club around 7pm tonight.  
\--Erik_

Even though he still couldn't get in his house, Charles could have sobbed with relief. Erik had gone out of his way to come by Charles' house when he couldn't reach Charles on the phone; surely that indicated he was interested in pursuing a relationship. The cab behind him started to pull out and Charles ran to stop him. He hesitated when he approached the cab. 

Charles knew going to the Hellfire Club could be dangerous because Shaw had also asked him about coming there tonight, but surely Erik wouldn’t let him get hurt. He didn’t really _want_ to go - he would much rather have gone inside his house and showered - but he had no way inside with his house keys still with his luggage. Of course, he could always _not_ go, catch up with Erik some other way, and--what? Instead try and find a locksmith to get into his house on a Sunday night - how? He had no phone. He was only wearing a flimsy T-shirt, and the temperature was dropping rapidly.

“You wanna go somewhere, or what?” The cabbie asked tiredly. 

“The Hellfire Club,” Charles said determinedly. He didn’t remember the exact address of that, but he knew the intersection, and he told the cabbie that. 

It did not occur to Charles’ tired mind even once that perhaps Erik had not written the note.

**

Around 3pm on Sunday, Erik couldn’t stand waiting anymore. He sent a text to Charles that said: _**Are you back yet? Please call me when you are**_

He didn’t have to wait long for a response, but the response he got made his blood run cold. 

_**Sorry I didn’t call you back Erik I was a little tied up…I’ll be at the Hellfire Club tonight around 9pm if you want to see me.** _

Tied up? Erik stared at his phone. It didn’t make sense. It certainly wasn't a coincidental turn of phrase, and if Charles was seeing somebody else, another dom, surely he wouldn’t be so crude as to say that...unless he was more upset at Erik than Erik had thought. It was definitely someone in the lifestyle, if he would be at the Hellfire Club. 

Erik exhaled. Okay, he’d known this was a possibility; he’d talked with Emma about it. Perhaps he had competition. Perhaps Charles had already moved on, although, why would he have sent this text if he had? 

Even if Charles was with someone else, Erik owed him an explanation, at least. And a proper date, if Charles would give him that chance. 

But something else about the text bothered him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it felt like maybe Charles wasn’t saying what he really wanted to say. 

Erik paced, as much as he could in his tiny apartment. He would go, obviously. But maybe it would be good to have someone else there. 

Erik called Logan. “You have any interest in going to the Hellfire Club tonight?” he asked. 

"Heh. Funny you should ask--we're on our way there now."

"Oh really? Would you mind swinging by to pick me up? I want to go with you."

Logan covered the microphone and said something to Anne-Marie that Erik couldn't make out. 

The he was back. "She wants to know if you can be ready in ten minutes.”

Erik glanced at the clock. It was not even 7pm; he might have to kill some time at the club before Charles arrived. He didn’t really relish that but he did like the idea of arriving with his friends - Logan was great as muscle and Anne-Maries would be great moral support if Charles did end up leaving the Hellfire Club with someone other than Erik.

The thought tasted like ash in his mouth.

“What’s the occasion?” Logan asked. “I thought you didn’t go there anymore.”

“Uh, well, do you remember Charles? Suspension bondage?”

“Oh, definitely,” Logan said. “You two hook up?” He didn’t sound judgemental or surprised, just curious.

Erik cleared his throat. “Um, yes and no. He’s going to be at the Hellfire Club tonight, maybe with someone else...but he didn’t have such a good time the last time he went there and I’m...well, I have a weird feeling and I’d rather have some, um, backup if things get ugly.”

Logan was silent a moment. “Sounds like maybe I should bring my knives.” Logan had custom-made leather gauntlet-style gloves that had three long, sharp, retractable knives in each one. He usually wore them for effect, at BDSM conventions and events like that, (or maybe he had other uses for them in the bedroom: Erik didn’t pry, and he didn’t judge other people for their kinks) but they had the potential to be lethal and were highly illegal. 

Erik didn’t want him to get in trouble because of him. “Logan…”

“Aw, I’ll be careful. Anne-Marie will kill me if I get arrested.”

Erik snorted. No doubt.

 

**

Erik, Logan and Ann-Marie walked into the club and immediately Erik felt like everyone was looking at him, but their eyes would slide away when his met theirs. It was more than the usual feeling of being checked out - although that was part of it, too, Erik was sure, because he had worn some of his most [dominant attire](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/cc/bb/2a/ccbb2afb6019198a2fec8f1c06c04c37.jpg) simply because it gave him confidence. He knew he looked good. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that people were whispering about him right until he would look at them. 

Erik didn’t see Charles anywhere, but he was still early. By reflex, he kept his eyes peeled for Shaw, too, but he didn’t see him either. He checked the time: it was about 7pm, still early. Probably Charles wasn’t here yet. He was just debating sending Charles a text when Logan and Anne-Marie walked up to him. “Do you wanna check the back rooms?” Logan asked quietly. 

Erik considered. He hadn’t told Logan that Charles had given him a time, but he felt like he did want to take a look around. Charles had unfortunately demonstrated his naivete that last time he’d been here; it was possible a predatory dom had taken advantage of that - maybe even Azazel, if he felt he had a score to settle because Erik had punched him. Erik nodded to Logan. Anne-Marie put a collar on Logan and the three of them walked through the red door. 

It was the usual cacophony of hot, sweaty, mostly naked bodies and red lighting. Erik saw the mush pit to the right and he quickly made sure that Charles wasn’t one of the people at the center of it - no, it was two women. He breathed a sigh of relief. Still...it was harder to see with the dim lighting and the crowd of bodies, but he didn’t see Charles anywhere. On a whim, he checked the closet that he had found Charles trapped in earlier that week - it was empty. 

He stuck close to Anne-Marie and Logan, as getting separated in the back room wasn’t wise, but Erik’s sick feeling increased when he looked around and realized that he didn’t see any of Shaw’s usual entourage, either - Azazel or Janos or Nathaniel. He was turning when a young woman with wings tattooed on her shoulders tugged on his sleeve urgently. He didn’t know her, but he had a feeling she knew him as she yelled “This way,” in his ear. Erik alerted Logan and and Anne-Marie and the three of them followed the young woman through a door Erik had only been through once before. His stomach dropped. 

The inside of the room was much quieter. It had no windows, and the walls seem to be covered with the kind of sound-absorbing foam found on recording studio walls, all painted black. The most noticeable thing about the room was that in the middle of it a naked man was tied onto a pool table, spread-eagle, his wrists and ankles tied at the corners and his head tipped over the side of the other end of the table from Erik, out of sight. Although he didn’t see any identifying features, Erik was sure it was Charles. There were a few other people in the room, including Azazel and Janos, and a few kneeling subs. Victor Creed was there, too, standing to the right of the door Erik had entered through, and he gave Erik a barely perceptible nod when Erik’s gaze flicked to his face. 

Also, unfortunately, the man Erik least wanted to see in the entire world was standing at the other end of the table from Erik, far too close to Charles’ head for Erik’s comfort. Shaw had a sour look on his face when he saw Erik.

“Aw, you’re early,” he complained. “We didn’t get to have any fun. I just barely got the gag in.”

Erik walked swiftly towards Shaw, Logan and Anne-Marie right behind him. The girl who had caught his attention in the other room with the tattooed shoulders came in too, moving to the side of the room, past Victor. Before Erik could reach Shaw and follow his instinct to punch him, Azazel and Janos stepped up to flank Shaw. 

Fortunately, Erik had his own cavalry: Logan and Victor moved closer and stood just behind him. 

Erik ignored Shaw for a moment in favor of turning to look at Charles, who was struggling against his bonds. Charles was wearing a [rachet gag](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gag_%28medical_device%29), the device used in dentist’s office when they wanted to keep an unconscious patient’s jaw open...a device also used by doms who wanted to keep a sub’s mouth open. 

He stared at the device for a moment and felt vertigo sweep over him as he remembered when he had been in Charles’ position, with Shaw, and what had happened next. The idea that Shaw had been about to do that to Charles before Erik walked in made him want to vomit. He looked up at Shaw and their gazes locked - and Erik hated that he felt his gaze immediately lower. 

Shaw smirked. “It is nice to see that you still cower in front of your dom, Erik. What is it I used to call you? My fuck-clone, is that right?”

Erik did his best to ignore Shaw’s words as he turned back to Charles, but he had a feeling they would haunt him later. 

Erik released the tabs on the metal gag and carefully took it out of Charles’ mouth, trusting Logan and Victor to watch his back while he took care of Charles. Charles looked at him, upside-down, with clearly glazed eyes, working his jaw. “Erik?” he whispered. 

“Yes, Charles, it’s me,” Erik said, aware that his breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps. He needed to be in control. Charles needed him to be in control. 

“Do you want to leave? With me?” Erik asked. A part of his mind told him he needed to ask, this could be consensual, maybe this was one of Charles’ kinks…

“Please,” Charles whispered, grimacing, “Please, get me out of here.”

Erik looked up at Logan, who immediately cut the ties holding Charles down with the knives in his gloves.

“As if nobody saw _that_ coming,” Shaw said, his lips curled into a sneer. “Although, we were looking forward to breaking him in a bit more first." He waved towards Azazel and his voice adopted a cruelly amused tone. "I promised this one he'd get to do some water sports with our little Bitchhole."

Erik ignored Shaw and helped Charles get to his feet, and together they started to move towards the exit. Angel cleared her throat as they started to pass her and Erik met her eyes. She looked significantly at a pile of clothes, Charles’ clothes, on a chair next to the door. 

“He signed a form consenting to everything, just so you’re aware,” Shaw called casually after Erik as they walked around the pool table.

Erik wanted to leave right away but he also didn’t want for Charles have to be naked any longer than he had been, especially not in the other back room. He helped Charles get dressed. Charles seemed to be having some trouble focusing, and Erik wondered if he’d been drugged. 

Once Logan saw that Charles was mostly dressed, he pushed the knives in his gloves carefully against the way until they clicked into place in the unextended position.

“You’ll be in touch soon,” Sebastian said, with a smug sound to his voice, as Charles finished dressing. Erik shot him a death glare. Shaw seemed to feel he knew something Charles did not. If Erik hadn’t been more concerned about Charles’ welfare, he thought he might actually have killed Shaw at that moment. 

“We’re leaving now,” Erik told Charles, as Charles turned and buried his head in Erik’s chest. He nodded, his eyes down. Their little posse went out of the room with the pool table, entering again the crowded red room. Logan and Anne-Marie led, Erik had his arm around Charles in the middle, and Victor walked in the back. 

Within five minutes they had walked through the front room and were all on the sidewalk in front of the club. 

“Victor,” Erik said sincerely, “I’m really glad you were there.” He proffered his hand to the tall man, Charles still clinging to him on his left side.

Victor shook his hand. “Hey, man, that guy Shaw is a _dick_. I went to him for a session once and he almost used a fuckin’ dirty knife to cut me. I saw him dragging your friend here back to that room and I remembered seeing him leaving with you a couple nights ago - I figured Shaw was up to no good.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” Victor smiled and walked back inside the club, waving goodbye to Logan and Anne-Marie. 

“I never used to like that guy at all,” Logan said thoughtfully. “Glad he’s not like I thought he was.”

“Thank you, Logan, Anne-Marie,” Erik said. He looked at Charles, whose face was still buried in Erik’s shoulder. “I think we’ll get a cab.”

Logan and Anne-Marie both looked at Charles with sympathy, but he just pulled closer to Erik. When Logan and Anne-Marie left, Erik hailed a cab. “Where do you want to go?” Erik asked softly, before they got into the cab. “Do you want to go to the police, or the hospital?”

Charles shook his head firmly at the word police but his brow furrowed when Erik said hospital. “Why would I want a hospital?” he asked. 

“To get a rape kit done,” Erik said evenly. “It’s your choice, Charles; I don’t expect--”

“He didn’t rape me,” Charles said. 

“You guys gettin’ in?” The cabbie asked. 

Erik looked at Charles with concern but helped him into the cab. [Erik noticed Charles wincing as he sat down in the cab.](https://38.media.tumblr.com/cedf5ed76600160b0ceef1d02e4043b7/tumblr_nmib5ugpWN1rxm9ewo1_540.gif)

“It hurts you to sit down,” Erik whispered to Charles’ temple. “Are you sure he didn’t…?”

“That’s - something else he did,” Charles said, and some tears came to his eye. “Can we - talk about this later?”

“Of course,” Erik murmured, feeling like an ass. “We don’t have to talk about it at all if you don’t want to.”

“Meter’s running, guys,” the cabbie said. 

“Your house?” Erik suggested. 

To his surprise, Charles shook his head. “Can we go to yours?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Erik said. He gave the cabbie the address for his apartment. 

The ride was quiet. Charles seemed to be pulling away from him a bit and Erik didn’t want to force any more physical intimacy than Charles was comfortable with onto the younger man, even though his instincts were screaming at him to hold Charles and never let him go. 

The cab pulled up and Erik helped Charles out of the cab and into his building. Charles sat on Erik’s couch carefully with a sigh that was mostly relief. He just sat with his eyes closed for a moment, breathing. 

Erik didn’t know what to do. He sat down on the other end of the sofa from Charles, not touching him. He had an idea what Charles had been through because he knew Shaw’s methods, but he didn’t really _know_ , not really. He knew that Charles said he hadn’t been raped, and yet Erik also knew Shaw and how he could convince people into doing things that they really didn’t want to do and then make them think it was their idea to begin with. “Can I get you anything, or do anything for you?” he finally asked softly. 

Charles still didn’t look at him, but Erik saw his throat convulse in a swallow. “Can you tell me - what we are? You and me? Because I know its stupid to be worried about that right now, considering, well, everything, but all I can think about is I don’t know if you are just...helping someone who nobody else would or--or--if it’s more than that, if _we_ are more than that--”

Erik could not resist touching Charles anymore, and he felt both pain and a very tender, bright spot of happiness as he carefully took the other man’s hand. “Charles. I’m here because I care about you. I fucked up, when I didn’t call you to explain...why I spoke to you, the way I did, on Thursday. I’d had a long day, and I didn’t know--I’m just an idiot, really, I’m not good at people, but Charles, I want--you. I want--” he made a noise of frustration and tried to gather his thoughts. Charles was looking at him, he noticed, with an unreadable expression of his face. “It’s been a really, really long time since I’ve--” he sighed again as he couldn’t find the words. 

“Why?” Charles asked softly. “Why did you...say those things to me, when I came by your work? I know my visit was inappropriate, I just thought--”

“No,” Erik said desperately. “It wasn’t inappropriate. I was happy to see you. I liked...seeing you, there, wearing my shirt. It’s just that---the person in the waiting room, the woman waiting there, was a cop. I didn’t want her to have reason to think I have sex with my clients.”

Charles’ mouth opened slightly as he considered what Erik was saying. “Oh. _Oh_. Did I say something that--?”

Erik nodded miserably. “I tried to call you a couple times after to explain, but your phone was going straight to voicemail and I didn’t feel like I had time to leave you a proper message - I had back-to-back clients all day. By the time I got home it was almost midnight...I felt like it was too late. I decided to call you in the morning, and then I was running late…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It’s really no excuse. I’m so sorry, Charles. From the moment I kissed you, I felt...I felt like we started something. And I guess I hoped that you did too, and that...it would buy me some time with you, I don’t know.” He looked at Charles and wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to make all this go away, but it was too soon, he needed for Charles to be ready for that. 

And Charles was just looking at him, still holding his hand. He brought Erik’s hand up to his face and pressed it against his cheek, his eyes closed, like he thought he might be dreaming. “I felt it too,” he whispered, and the breath out of his mouth tickled the fine hairs on the back of Erik’s wrist. “I--I’ve just...I’ve fallen for a lot of people who haven’t...reciprocated my interest. After we talked at your studio, I doubted what I’d felt, or, rather, what I thought you felt...I shouldn’t have.”

It hurt Erik to hear that he’d put Charles in such a position of doubt. “I’m so sorry, Charles. I’m--I really want...can I kiss you?”

Charles looked at him and Erik saw how wet his eyes were. Charles nodded and immediately moved towards Erik and met him halfway, their mouths coming together in a kiss that felt desperate and long-overdue. 

They fell on their sides, still kissing, Erik with a frenzied urgency and Charles with a gasping relief. Charles deliberately slowed the kiss down after a minute or so and Erik reluctantly took the hint as they both lay sideways on the couch, Charles’ head cradled on Erik’s shoulder with Erik’s arm behind his head.

They both just breathed into each other for a moment, Charles into Erik’s shoulder and Erik into Charles’ hair. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘I expect to be busy all weekend’?” Charles asked after a few minutes, finding Erik’s left hand with his right and interlacing their fingers together idly. 

“I meant that I was hoping to spend the weekend with you,” Erik replied softly, his voice low. “I was trying to--I don’t know, say it flirty, so you would understand but the cop wouldn’t.”

“Oh god,” Charles said, and he thought he was going to laugh but it came out as a sob. “Oh god,” he said again, and then he was sobbing, hard, getting Erik’s shirt wet with his tears. 

Erik felt his eyes moisten in sympathy as he let go of Charles’ hand so he could stroke Charles’ shoulder down his arm. He didn’t say anything, he just projected _I am here for you_ as best he could. 

“I thought--” Charles sniffed. “It’s so stupid, I thought you were making fun of me for even thinking that you--and I--”

“Oh no,” Erik said, feeling genuine horror, “Oh, no, Charles. God, no. I haven’t been able to think of anything but you since Wednesday night. I want to treat you right, take you out properly on a date...I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated.”

Charles stiffened a little and Erik felt alarmed. “Charles? What is it?”

“I just...it’s...nothing.”

But his body language belied his words. Erik pulled away from Charles just far enough that he could look into the other man’s face. “Please, Charles. I said something that upset you.”

Charles shook his head, his eyes lowered. “No. Not--you. I just can’t...I mean, aren’t you...worried…” Charles trailed off and finally lifted his eyes to meet Erik’s again, chewing on his lip anxiously. 

“Worried?” Erik realized this was about what had happened that weekend then, with Shaw. “I’m not as worried as I was, now that you are here, and safe.”

Charles swallowed and looked away again. “Yes. Here is better. This is better.” He snuggled into Erik again, but that peculiar tension in his body was still there. 

Erik had an idea what Charles might be feeling, and he could understand why it would be hard for Charles to talk about it. He debated the best way to bring it up so that he could allay Charles’s fears. He finally realized what he needed to say, understanding that it might upset Charles--hell, it might upset _him_ \--but he didn’t want to keep any secrets from Charles anyway. “Charles, I think you should know...I’ve been...in your position. At Shaw’s retreat, years ago.”

Erik felt Charles swallow against his chest. “You did--what he did? What the other doms did?”

Erik closed his eyes. It wasn’t a pleasant memory. “No,” he whispered. “I was there as a sub.”

“But--you’re not a sub. Unless--you do both? Do you switch?”

Erik shook his head. “No, I’ve always been firmly dominant. But that doesn’t matter to Sebastian. He decides who is a dom or a sub based on who he wants to fuck.”

Charles sucked a breath in. “So he…?”

Erik didn’t want to answer that question at that moment, and he thought Charles would probably understand if he didn’t. He took a deep breath and changed the subject slightly. “I went to him because I wanted to learn to be a dom. He told me the best way to learn to be a dom was to see it from the other side--to be a sub. To live as a sub.”

Charles was starting to get upset on Erik’s behalf. “To _live_ , Erik? 24/7?”

Again, Erik didn’t answer the question directly. He picked up Charles’ hand and did what Charles had done earlier, interlacing their fingers, making sure he had control of his voice before he spoke again. “I lasted about three months before I had finally both the opportunity and the mental fortitude to escape.” 

“What do you mean by ‘mental fortitude’?” Charles asked in a small voice. 

This was the part that Erik really needed to convey to Charles. “Shaw is...extremely manipulative. He will tell you anything to get you to do what he wants you to, and he has this way of making you think it’s your idea when you _do_ comply with his wishes. He drugs people indiscriminately, and he gets off on pushing people past what they explicitly state as their boundaries.” 

Erik paused because Charles’ breathing had changed. He inhaled a couple times as if he were going to say something and then didn’t. Erik just stroked his shoulder patiently. There was no hurry; he had Charles in his arms, finally. 

“He--Seb--Shaw--told me that...you would be disgusted with me,” Charles finally said. “Because of your rules. Because of what…” Charles couldn’t continue. He shook his head and swallowed hard. 

Erik wrapped his arms around Charles tightly. “I’m not disgusted with you, Charles. I’m just glad you’re here.”

“But,” Charles was breathing harder and getting worked up. “He _didn’t force me_ , Erik. I mean not into--well, there were a couple things that I--I mean, did some things that I didn’t really want to do but _I_ did them, and I don’t want to mislead you into thinking I’m some kind of--victim, some kind of innocent perfect angel because I’m _not_.”

Erik closed his eyes and breathed evenly. He had the benefit of years of hindsight to understand what Shaw had done to him and the way he’d been manipulated, but he remembered feeling like Charles in the difficult year immediately following his ‘apprenticeship’ with Shaw: confused and angry and guilty. “Charles--this is what he does. He gets inside your head, he makes you think that you are wrong and gross and not fit for human consumption...and I swear, Charles, that is _not_ you. Because if you are disgusting then I am too, and maybe that just means we’re perfect for each other.”

Charles raised his eyes to meet Erik’s and Erik felt like he could lose himself forever, happily, staring into those blue depths. Charles repositioned himself so he was directly on top of Erik, straddling him, in fact, and very slowly pressed their mouths together, taking his time, exploring Erik’s mouth with his lips and tongue. Then he started to press kisses into Erik’s jawline, kissing back towards Erik’s neck. 

Erik felt Charles’ cock growing hard against him and his own pants tighten as well. He ran his hands down Charles back, wanting to touch his bare flesh but also not wanting to rush Charles. 

“Erik,” Charles murmured against his neck, as he started rocking his hips against Erik’s. “You were my happy thought,” he whispered, in words so quiet they were barely audible. “I pretended it was...you…” he suddenly gasped and pulled back and looked at Erik with wide eyes. He looked around the room. “Oh shit,” he said closing his eyes wearily and putting his head on Erik’s chest. “For a moment I was...somewhere else.”

“It’s alright,” Erik said soothingly. He shifted uncomfortably and willed his hard cock to deflate before Charles noticed it. “We should take this slow.”

Charles looked at him with parted, wet, red lips and Erik could help but steal a kiss. “But your cock is hard,” Charles whispered against his mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” Erik whispered back. “I need you to feel safe.”

Charles rolled his hips and Erik bit back a groan. “I could keep my eyes open,” Charles said breathily. 

“Can we move this debate to my bed?” Erik said. “It’s a little less crowded there.” 

Charles smiled at him. “I like the sound of that.” He climbed off Erik and pulled down the Murphy bed, then sat down on it and took off his shoes and socks. He glanced up at Erik, who was still lounging on the couch, just watching him. “I’m not presumptuous if I get undressed, am I?”

“Not at all,” Erik said with a smile. “Make yourself at home.”

Charles smiled back and took off his shirt. “Well, in that case, maybe I could shower?”

“Be my guest,” Erik said. Charles dropped his pants and underwear and turned to give Erik a cheeky grin, but Erik’s face had gone white. 

“What?” Charles said in alarm. Panic gripped him. He’d fucked it up already, he’d done something wrong…

“He marked you,” Erik said, ugly emotion twisting his features. 

Charles put his hands behind him on his naked buttocks and swallowed. “He told me...this was a favor, so everyone would know my boundaries. I’m sorry,” he said, even though he knew he had no reason to apologize, it was just that Erik looked ill and Charles couldn’t stand it.

“That motherfucker,” Erik spat. He paced for a moment and then lay facedown on his bed and screamed into a pillow before punching the bed mattress a few times. 

Tears came to Charles’ eyes and he put a hand over his mouth. “It will fade,” He said desperately, wanting to comfort Erik and also terrified that _this_ was that thing that pushed Erik over, that finally tipped him over from compassion into disgust. He stood awkwardly, feeling far too naked, wanting to cover himself up…

“You have nothing---to apologize--for,” Erik finally said, bringing himself under control with a heroic effort. “I’m sorry about that, Charles. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want to fucking kill Sebastian Shaw.”

“Well, I don’t want that,” Charles said in a quavering voice. “I don’t know if you would look good in an orange prison jumpsuit.”

A laugh escaped Erik despite himself. “Can you--I know you want to shower, but--can you come here for a moment please?”

Charles shyly came closer and lay down next to Erik on the bed. “Like this?”

Erik nodded took a deep breath. “What did Shaw tell you that he wrote on your ass?”

Charles’ cheeks burned for a moment. “‘No ass play.’ It was what I wrote on the contract he had me sign when I first got to his house.”

Erik nodded, his eyes closed, looking like he was in pain. 

It hadn’t occurred to Charles before Erik asked that that Shaw had written something else. “What does it say?” he whispered. 

Erik sighed and looked at him with an abject, miserable expression. “It says ‘Shaw was here’.”

Charles closed his eyes and breathed hard for a few moments. “It will fade,” he repeated. “He didn’t--scar me, did he?”

“Is it okay if I take a closer look?”

Charles nodded and Erik moved down. Charles felt his fingers skate on the tender surface of the burns and he got gooseflesh from it. “I don't see blisters,” Erik said. “These should fade in a few days, maybe the worst parts in a week. I have some ointment I can put on it, if you like?”

“Maybe after I shower?” Charles suggested. He was realizing he hadn’t showered since Saturday morning, and when he thought about everything that happened after...he shuddered and pulled up and away from Erik. “I really need to shower.”

“Of course,” Erik said. “Don’t make the water too hot, or it will hurt these marks more.”

Charles nodded shyly and went to take his shower.

**

Erik thought seriously about jerking off while Charles was in the shower. He didn’t want to rush Charles into anything, but he was having trouble keeping his erection down; Charles was intoxicatingly attractive. 

Just about the time he realized it was too late for him to start masturbating if he was going to, he heard the shower turn off. Erik sighed and resolved to just deal with the sexual frustration as he did whenever he had a particularly sexy client - by ignoring it. He went to find his first aid kit, under the kitchen sink. When he stood back up Charles was out of the shower with a towel around his waist looking vaguely lost. 

“Lie down on the bed, face down,” Erik directed, adding hastily, when he realized how much like an order that sounded, “I mean, if you want to. So I can put this burn ointment on you.”

Charles smiled at him, a sweet, genuine expression, and lay face down on the bed. Erik sat next to him on the bed. 

“I’m going to move the towel, okay?” He murmured to Charles. 

“Of course,” said Charles, although his breathing hitched a little. Erik pushed up the towel and tried not think about the words the burns on Charles' ass spelled as he carefully applied the burn cream. Mostly the skin was just red, although upon closer inspection there were a few tiny blisters that Erik hadn’t noticed the first time he’d looked. 

He was being so careful and focused in applying the ointment to the red areas on Charles’ ass that he didn’t notice at first that Charles was breathing strangely and rocking his hips. Charles let out a little, incredibly sexy sound and then suddenly Erik saw Charles’ rounded ass not as a patient, but as a beautiful part on a sexy men. 

Erik watched his hands and felt like they had a mind of their own as they moved rhythmically on Charles’ behind, gently, one on each cheek, his thumbs swiping closer and closer to the cleft between the two rounded buttocks on each pass. 

“Oh, please,” Charles moaned, pushing his ass up and flexing his buttocks slightly more open. 

“I don’t want to rush you,” Erik said in a guttural voice, even as he watched his fingers belie his words by stroking slowly closer to where Charles obviously wanted them to be. 

“No, no,” Charles breathed. “This is good, this is okay. I haven’t--oh--had anything _there_ in a long time.

Erik swallowed. “Shaw didn’t…?” He shouldn’t have asked, and he regretted the question immediately. 

But Charles shook his head firmly, turning around enough to make eye contact with Erik. “No, he didn’t. He kept his word about that - no penetration. Well,” Charles’ eyes faltered for a moment before he added softly, “--not there, anyway.”

“Still…” Erik hands were still moving on Charles’ ass, though. He wanted to, oh god, he wanted to. There was an animalistic, primal part of Erik that he wanted to reclaim Charles, to erase the meaning of the burns he’d left on Charles if not the actual burns themselves. 

“Are you going to make me beg?” Charles whimpered, rolling his hips anxiously. “I’d rather not, honestly, right now, but I swear I’m going to fucking scream if I don’t feel some part of you inside me soon.”

The words went straight to Erik’s cock. He leaned over Charles and sunk his teeth into the nape of Charles’ neck; not hard enough to actually hurt, but firmly. 

“Oh fuck yes,” Charles whispered, his back arching. “Please, Erik, god, fuck me, finger me, I have wanted you ever since I first saw you…”

Erik finished his bite with a kiss and whispered, “Don’t move a muscle,” to the back of Charles’ ear while he leaped up to wash the ointment off his hands and grab proper lube. He was back in thirty seconds.

Charles huffed out a soft laugh as Erik quickly returned to the Murphy bed, fondling Charles’ ass again. “That was fast,” he said, with a smile in his voice. 

“I was motivated,” Erik said back, sotto voce. He slicked up his thumbs and ran them down Charles’ cleft simultaneously, swiping the sensitive flesh near Charles’ pucker, not touching it, brushing ever closer but not quite touching it, until Charles was writhing and moaning incoherently. Then he slowly stroked a thumb over the rim, watching Charles carefully for any sign of a negative reaction. 

Charles was gasping the word “Please,” over and over until Erik slicked his index finger and slipped that inside Charles slowly.

“Oh, fuck, yes, please,” Charles moaned. “Fuck me, Erik, I want your cock inside me. I need you, I need it, Erik, I need you to fuck me…”

Erik felt his resolve slipping even as he wondered how Charles managed to undo him so much more and better than anyone had for at least fifteen years. He knew he had to try. “I can’t, Charles; I don’t have any condoms here.”

“I don’t care,” Charles gasped, “I want you inside me, god, please.”

Erik slipped a second slicked up finger in next to the first one already inside Charles’ ass and started slowly working them in and out, carefully so as not to jar the burns, watching them disappear inside Charles. 

Words were failing Erik. He knew he was disease-free; he hadn't actually had sex with anyone for at least three years, and it had always been with a condom, and he’d been tested 2 years before. He wanted Charles like he hadn’t wanted anyone in a long time. He knew that Charles trusted him. But was it too soon? 

Charles started to turn over, favoring his burnt ass cheeks a little. Erik withdrew his fingers carefully, his mouth slack as he realized that Charles wasn’t ready, and that was ok…

“I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me,” Charles said earnestly, his blue eyes searching Erik’s face. 

Erik moved over Charles, putting his weight on his arms, and kissing Charles deeply. “Are you sure?” he asked, in a low voice, between kisses. God knew he shouldn’t, but seeing Charles like this, imagining the look on his face with Erik’s cock buried inside him…

Charles undid the button on Erik’s pants. He smiled slightly, not breaking eye contact with Erik. “I can’t remember being more sure of anything else,” he said. “But I don’t think there’s a lot of blood in my brain right now.” Charles pushed Erik’s pants down and Erik rolled his underwear-clad hips against Charles. 

Charles’ eyes closed and a tiny frown crossed his brow. 

“Look at me,” Erik commanded. “Stay with me, Charles.”

Charles opened his eyes and smiled at Erik. “I’m here,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Erik rolled off Charles for a moment and quickly stripped the rest of the way, kicking off his pants and underwear and unbuttoning his shirt rapidly. 

Charles watched him like a satisfied cat, through half-lidded eyes. He was on his back with his knees bent, lazily stroking his cock. His eyes skated down Erik’s body appreciatively and then a strange expression crossed his face that quickly disappeared. 

Erik moved between his legs, stroking up Charles’ thighs. “Everything ok?” he asked gently. 

Charles smiled at him. “More than okay,” he said. “Assuming you are about to fuck me, that is.”

Erik smiled back and stroked some lube onto his cock. “Are you prepped enough?” He asked. 

Charles eyed Erik’s cock speculatively. “I think so, if you go slow.”

Erik grinned and kissed Charles on the knee. “Control is my middle name.”

He put his weight on one hand next to Charles’ head and used the other to place the head of his cock against Charles’ pucker. Once he was sure the placement was right, he looked Charles in the eye and pushed in as slowly as he could bear to. 

Charles mouth opened and his face contorted but he kept his eyes open, locked with Erik’s. Erik gritted his teeth and felt himself starting to sweat as he pressed his cock inside Charles, millimeter by millimeter. Once the head was past Charles’ ring of muscle the going was a little smoother, but he just kept pressing steadily in, not pulling out, until he felt his balls against the bottom curve of Charles’ ass.

“Fuck, your cock is huge,” Charles said, breathing hard. “Give me a second to - adjust.”

Erik just nodded, as apparently the speech center in his brain had melted. He leaned forward to claim a sloppy, desperate kiss from Charles’ lips as he struggled to fight his instincts and not move. 

“Okay,” Charles breathed after an eternity that was probably only a minute long. Erik groaned and he pulled out and then pressed in again, feeling every motion, feeling the inside of _Charles_ dragging against his cock. 

Erik realized his head had tipped down and his eyes had closed. He snapped them up again, looking Charles in the eye, as he slowly started to move his cock in and out of the other man. 

Charles was moaning with every thrust, and Erik noticed for the first time that Charles was stroking his cock as Erik fucked him. “Don’t come before me,” Erik said, before he could think about if giving orders was really a good idea right now. “I want your come for myself.”

Charles’s eyes widened a little and his moans got louder. He didn’t stop stroking himself but his strokes became slower. 

“Tell me I’m yours,” Charles whispered, his eyes determinedly open, as he looked into Erik’s eyes. 

“You’re mine,” Erik breathed, remembering when he’d told Charles the same thing, when he was tied up in rainbow ropes. When it was supposedly a game...it wasn’t a game anymore. “You belong to me...and I belong to you.”

Charles was having more trouble keeping his eyes locked on Erik’s, and the noises coming from his throat were becoming progressively higher in pitch. “Oh yes, god, yes Erik, fuck me hard, please, own me…”

Erik was nothing if not accomodating. He started fucking Charles harder, still watching his face. Charles eyes closed as his head rolled back and Erik whispered, “Stay with me, my love. Keep looking at me.”

Charles’ eyes snapped open. “Erik - you said - “

It was too soon, but Erik knew was love was, and pretending he wasn’t in love with Charles seemed ridiculous. He felt the beginnings of his orgasm start to overcome him along with a tidal swell of emotion. “I love you, Charles,” he gasped, and then added, romantically, “I’m gonna come.”

“Yes, please, fill me up, oh my god, you _love_ me?” Charles was somewhere between ecstatic and incredulous as Erik pushed his cock deep inside and grunted with release. He collapsed onto Charles, the muscles in his arms trembling too hard to hold him up any longer. “I love you,” he repeated into Charles’ hair, his voice muffled. 

Charles laughed a little, and it made his sphincter twitch around Erik’s cock. Erik groaned. “I can’t believe - I mean - are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Erik said. He felt Charles’ still quite erect cock pressing into his stomach. “Do you need more proof?” He slid down, carefully pulling out of Charles, and licked Charles’ cock firmly on the frenulum. 

Charles gasped and clutched at Erik’s shoulders. “Oh, fuck, that’s what you meant…”

It had been a while since Erik had sucked a cock, but not because he didn’t greatly enjoy it. He swirled his tongue around the head and took it into his mouth, wrapping a hand firmly around the base, as he glanced up to see Charles watching him with glazed eyes. Satisfied that he was still present, Erik redoubled his efforts, moving his mouth up and down the shaft, keeping an even suction, tonguing the bottom side of Charles’ cock. 

“I’m - it’s - “ was all Charles managed to say before he was coming in Erik’s mouth. Erik paused with his mouth around Charles’ head until the spasms of Charles’ climax had mostly stopped, then swallowed what was in his mouth and then with slow, careful movements, he ran his tongue around the edge of the head to make sure he had gotten it all. 

Charles was lying flat, his jaw slack, his eyes closed. He made a small, happy sound. 

Erik smiled and moved over so he was next to Charles on the bed. “You still with me?” he whispered, stroking a damp lock of hair out of Charles’ eyes. 

“Barely,” Charles admitted, turning his head to the side with a lazy smile, his eyes open only a slit. “But I’m not with anyone else.” 

Erik pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to Charles’ lips. They lay on their sides, facing each other. Erik felt the need to get up and get Charles a towel tugging on his but he was loathe to give up the moment just yet. 

“I love you too,” Charles whispered, opening his eyes after he said. “I have - I think since I heard your voice outside that closet door at the Hellfire Club.”

Erik felt a tenderness towards Charles so keen it was almost painful. “Nobody will hurt you again, Charles. I promise you.”

Charles kissed him again and then Erik went to get him a towel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaw is a manipulative horrible creepy bastard who says horrible things to Charles, but Erik rescues Charles before Shaw can actually do anything (more) to him. The long-awaiting "Charles and Erik talk it out finally" is in this chapter too. And sex.


	8. Brunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning in end notes

Erik woke much earlier than usual and for some reason his first thought was surprise that Charles was still sleeping next to him in his bed. 

There was enough light in the room that Erik could look his fill at Charles’ sleep-slack face, his smooth pale skin, the oddly incongruous nose with freckles on it. His long lashes rested on his cheeks and he breathed evenly, lying on his back, only his foot touching Erik. Erik wanted to glide his hands all over the smooth flesh, wanted to kiss him until neither of them could breathe, but he controlled himself. 

After what Erik suspected Charles had gone through at Shaw’s hand, Erik wanted Charles to be fully present for affection and touching, at least for a little while. 

So he just gazed at Charles and willed him to wake up. 

Erik thought about his actions the night before. He’d told Charles he loved him, which was moving fast by anyone’s standards. He hadn’t been lying, of course, but it scared him a little, to feel how quickly his emotions took over and made decisions that his mind should be making. 

Like not using a condom. Erik bit back a groan. He had a rule about that which was very well-founded, and it was the same reason everyone else had: to protect himself. Even though Charles had said he wasn’t raped, even though he said Shaw had respected his wishes about anal penetration, Charles didn’t _know_ what Shaw had done to him. Shaw could have drugged him and had his way with him; Erik could have very well just made a decision that ended his own life. 

Panic started rising in Erik and he forced himself to breathe easy. There was no point in panicking; he could not undo what had happened. But he did find himself craving a good hard run or workout, something he knew he could control. Or cleaning. Cleaning was one of Erik’s most effective stress-relieving activities. He wasn’t OCD, exactly; he just enjoyed the feeling that making something clean was something he could control; a goal he knew he could accomplish. 

Charles wasn’t waking, unfortunately, so after about five minutes of arguing with his own mind Erik slipped out of the bed to start coffee, thinking maybe the smell of coffee would wake Charles. 

As he was measuring the grounds with his back to the bed, he heard the bed creaking and the sound of Charles stretching. He turned his head because he didn’t want to miss seeing that and it was every bit as adorable as he’d expected. Erik smiled. “Good morning,” he said softly. 

Charles blinked at him a few times before a slow smile graced his lips and he pulled the covers up tighter to his chin. “Good morning. How can you be walking around naked? It’s freezing in here.”

Erik shrugged. He wasn’t much bothered by the cold unless it was _really_ cold. He started the coffeemaker. “Is there something I can do to warm you up?” he said with a smile, turning back around, only to catch a fleeting frown on Charles’ face. “What is it?” he asked.

Any negativity was swept away by a brilliant smile. “Nothing, love. I just want you next to me.”

Erik smiled. “Coffee?” he asked. 

Charles made a face. “Do you have any tea?”

“Tea? No.” Erik made a face right back at him and shook his head, still smiling. “You are so British.”

Charles tried to yawn and laugh at the same time. “I’m actually American, but I’ve spent so much time in living in the U.K. that I might as well be British.”

“Really? That’s interesting.” Erik walked back over to the bed and climbed in beside Charles, snuggling up to his side and putting his head sideways on Charles’ chest while he waited for the coffeemaker. Charles ran a hand through Erik’s hair. 

“What’s your day like today?” Erik asked, tilting his head up to look at Charles. “Can I take you out to brunch?”

Charles hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “I don’t teach today, although I was going to go in for some office hours in the late afternoon...but I could blow those off. So yes, brunch sounds lovely! But as for who’s taking who out...as I recall I asked you out first.” 

Erik made a scoffing sound that puffed air across Charles’ chest and his nipples got hard. Erik couldn’t resist touching one of the little nubs, which made Charles squirm. “I’m not as destitute as I appear, Charles. I just like to live simply.”

“No, that’s not what--it’s just--you’ve been so good to me,” Charles protested. 

Erik pulled himself up on the bed so he could look Charles in the eye. “It’s important to me,” he said, searching Charles’ face, his expression serious. Erik didn’t know how to explain it to Charles, or even to himself, really, but he would be very uncomfortable if Charles paid for brunch.

Charles blinked blue eyes at him and although he seemed puzzled, he nodded and slowly smiled. “Okay,” he said leaning forward to press a chaste, sweet kiss to Erik’s lips. “You can take me out to brunch.”

The coffeemaker finished and Erik rolled out of bed again to get some. “So you don’t have any appointments today?” Charles asked. 

“Not that I know of. Sometimes people book late, but Emma will call me to let me know if that’s the case,” Erik said as he poured his coffee.

“So we could, theoretically, spend the day in bed.” 

Erik turned his head to see Charles grinning cheekily at him. He grinned back. “As tempting as that is, I do have some things I need to attend to at the studio.” Erik slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants and sat on the couch with his cup of coffee, sighing contentedly when he took the first sip. He looked over at Charles who was just starting to reluctantly slide out of the bed himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Charles said, putting on the underwear and pants he’d been wearing the day before. 

“You have - and apparently own, I believe - a gorgeous home that’s not far from here. Why did you want to come to my tiny box of an apartment last night?”

“Oh.” Charles exhaled unhappily. “Well, my house keys are in my luggage, which was in Sebastian’s trunk the last time I saw it. Incidentally, he also has my cell phone.” Charles put his shirt on. “So I will definitely have to take care of _that_ today. I guess spending the whole day in bed isn’t realistic for me either.”

Erik paused with his cup of coffee at his mouth. “You’re not going back to the Hellfire Club for that, are you?”

“God, no,” Charles said with a shudder. “I’ll call a locksmith and get a new phone. The clothes I can sacrifice.”

Erik wanted to do it all for him. He wanted to take care of Charles, wanted to protect him, wanted to control everything, every factor of every way Charles could potentially get hurt…

Erik exhaled slowly and carefully, and tried to listen to his logic instead of his emotions. Charles was an adult; he knew what he needed to do and he had the resources to do it. If Erik offered to do it all, Charles would probably let him, because he was suggestible and wanted to please Erik, but Charles had also told Erik before that he didn’t want a twenty-four-seven dom-sub relationship. And Erik knew he didn’t want that either, even if he hadn’t already been poisoned against that lifestyle by Shaw; Erik wanted to love someone he could relate to as an equal...except when it came to sex. Nevertheless, Erik found the desire to control and protect almost overwhelming.

“Are you alright, Erik? I hope I didn’t upset you.” Charles had apparently noticed some of Erik’s emotional turmoil on his face. He walked over to the couch and sat down next to Erik, pulling Erik’s arm up and snuggling underneath it. 

“I’m--” It was on the tip of Erik’s tongue to say he was fine and not mention his internal struggle. However, he didn’t want to be dishonest. So instead, he chuckled weakly, and made it a joke. “I’m afraid rumors of my emotional stability have been greatly exaggerated.”

Charles gave Erik a look so full of compassion that Erik almost couldn’t stand it. He nuzzled closer to Erik as Erik brought up both of his arms to wrap around Charles. Erik rested his head against Charles’ head, feeling himself trembling for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate even to himself. He was feeling off-balance, out of synch, and he was afraid for Charles to see that he wasn’t always completely in control; that he wasn’t a perfect Dom.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t what you signed up for,” Erik mumbled into Charles’ hair. 

Charles kissed Erik on the shoulder. “I like you just the way you are,” he said, and Erik felt a swell of love for Charles as he realized that was the exact perfect thing to say, even if it didn’t completely take away his pain - but there was nothing Charles could have said that would have done that.

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?” Erik asked after a moment. “I know you wore those yesterday.”

“Are you saying I stink?” Charles teased. 

Erik grinned and tilted Charles’ face up so he could kiss him gently on the lips. “I’m saying I like the idea of you wearing my clothes.”

“Well-played,” Charles responded, returning his grin.

**

“Can I ask,” Charles said, just after they were seated at the restaurant, “What made you come to the Hellfire Club yesterday? I didn’t think it was a place you frequented.”

Erik frowned. “Because I got your--oh, wait. When did you lose your phone?”

Charles considered. “Sometime between 12:30 and 1pm, I think? I use the phone to tell time, so I can’t be positive. I forced Sebastian to pull over and let me out of the car, and he drove off before I could get my phone or my luggage.”

Erik closed his eyes and shook his head. He tried to keep his anger under control, but all he wanted to do was hit the table. “I’m tired of feeling like he’s always a step ahead of me,” Erik gritted out. 

Charles put a hand on Erik’s hand, his brow knitted in concern, as he deduced what Erik was upset about. “Did he text you from my phone?”

“You told me - he told me - that you would be there around 9pm,” Erik said as evenly as he could. He pushed his rage down deliberately so that he would be able to function normally. 

Charles frowned. “So - you didn’t leave a note for me, on my door, did you?”

Erik shook his head. He had a guess where this was going but he asked anyway. “What did it say?”

“It said - if I can remember - you couldn’t reach me on my phone but you would be at the Hellfire Club at 7pm.” Charles squeezed Erik’s hand a little tighter, no doubt seeing how upset Erik was getting. “Thank goodness you were early.”

“Thank Logan and Anne-Marie,” Erik said, looking down. If they hadn’t already been on their way, he wouldn’t have arrived early. 

“I look forward to doing that.” Charles was relentlessly positive, and part of Erik should have resented that, but instead he looked up into Charles’ smiling face with gratitude. Whatever Shaw had been trying to do was over now, he told himself. They were both safe. 

“Will you order food for me?” Charles asked softly.

Erik looked at him in surprise. “Sure. What do you want?”

“Surprise me.” Charles was smiling coyly. 

Erik looked at Charles carefully. The idea of ordering for Charles made something in him feel very satisfied, and he wondered if Charles knew that, or if it Charles request was really something he wanted - for Erik to choose what he ate. 

But Erik also wanted to choose something Charles would like - although he was certain that Charles would eat it happily. He realized he was getting an erection at the thought. 

The waitress approached the table. “Are you ready to order?” She said with a smile. 

“Yes. I will have an egg white vegetable omelette, with added chicken, and wheat toast. My boyfriend will have two eggs, scrambled, and a short stack of pancakes. And tea,” he added quickly. “I think...Earl Grey, if you have it.”

“No problem, honey.” She smiled at him, nothing out of the usual as far as she was concerned, and walked away. 

When he turned to look at Charles, the other man was beaming. “You called me your boyfriend,” he said. 

“Well, I wasn’t very well going to tell her you are my sex slave, was I?” Erik asked teasingly. 

“Ooh, I like that. Sex slave.”

Erik grinned and leaned in for a kiss. Just after they split apart, Charles looked at something over Erik’s shoulder and his eyes widened. “Oh, God,” he said, hunching over and putting a hand in his face. “The last person I want to run into.”

Erik’s heart rate spiked and he whipped his head around towards where Charles had been looking, expecting to see Shaw.

“Oh. Er, sorry. Maybe he’s actually the second-last,” Charles said quickly.

Erik scanned the people gathered near the door waiting for a table for Shaw or one of his acolytes and didn’t see anyone - but he did see his least-favorite client, Piggy. 

“Well, there’s someone over there _I’d_ rather not run into in public either,” Erik said, contradicting himself when Piggy caught his eye and Erik nodded politely in recognition. Piggy blanched and immediately turned away. Erik couldn’t help but chuckle. “Although he’s even less happy about seeing me, I suppose. Considering his kinks, I can’t really blame him.”

Charles was still mostly hiding behind his hand and Erik’s body, but he did peek to where Erik was looking. “Who are you talking about?”

Erik had a sip of his coffee and waved nonchalantly in the general direction of the door. “The large man over there. The one who looks like Chief Wiggum from the Simpsons. Who is it you’re avoiding?”

Charles made a sound that sounded like a cough. Erik looked down at him to see that Charles had his hand pressed to his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. “Him,” he whispered, and he seemed on the verge of hysterical laughter. “Chief Wiggum, oh my god. That man is my step-brother, Can Marko.”

Erik turned to look at Piggy again instinctively. “Really? The one who’s suing you?”

Charles nodded, still sitting out of Marko’s line-of-sight. 

“Well, then I’m glad to have a good reason to dislike him. I don’t like the idea that I can dislike people because of their kinks.”

Charles gave him a look of absolute horror. “Oh, god, please don’t tell me he’s one of your clients.”

Erik considered how to respond to that. “I don’t want to lie to you,” he said carefully. 

“Oh, I can’t think about this,” Charles moaned, putting his forehead on the table and then immediately snapping it up again. “You didn’t - oh, please tell me you haven’t had sex with him. Oh, god, the idea of him being gay makes me never want to have sex with a man again,” Charles put his head in his hands. 

Erik wasn’t quite sure how serious a problem this was. Charles was being a little melodramatic - he was actually kind of adorable, although Erik was sure he would not appreciate Erik pointing that out. “Are you - mad?” he finally said. 

“Oh!” Charles looked at Erik with surprise. “No, I guess not. I’m just - he is just so _gross,_ Erik I don’t see how you could touch him!”

Erik snorted. “First of all, I don’t touch him, unless you count kicking him with boots on. Second - yes. He’s gross.”

Charles started laughing, helplessly. “Oh god. I don’t want to know, but I do. I have to know. What his - thing is.”

Erik took privacy very seriously. It was one of his rules. He made an unhappy sound, thinking about the ethics of telling Charles what Piggy--Cain--liked. “Is he a good person?”

The mirth immediately left Charles’ face. “No,” he said seriously. “He’s an ambulance-chasing lawyer, a man who gambled away the five million he rightfully inherited and then decided to sue my father’s estate and try to invalidate his will to get more money. He was a bully to me since the day I met him when I was seven until I moved out at age fifteen, once even breaking my arm.”

Erik gave Charles a tender, concerned look. “You moved out of the house when you were fifteen?”

Charles smiled at Erik and pulled his hand up to kiss Erik’s palm. “I went to boarding school in England, and nice try changing the subject.”

“I’m sorry,” Erik said after he had contemplated Charles’ request seriously. “My clients rely on me to be discreet.”

Charles pursed his lips, but nodded. “I respect you for having that position,” he said finally, heaving a big sigh. 

Their food arrived just then, and Charles tucked into his with gusto, which pleased Erik, until Charles said casually after a few bites, “I didn’t eat much this weekend.”

“Did he starve you?” Erik asked sharply, before he could stop himself. 

Charles was swallowing a bite of pancakes so he couldn’t answer right away. “No,” he said when he could finally talk again. “Although I did have to eat everything pretty much from his hands, which took away most of my appetite.”

“That’s where it starts,” Erik muttered, his good mood gone, as he stabbed into his omelette. “He likes to ramp things up.”

Charles seemed at a loss, but he definitely wanted to change the subject. “Do you always eat so healthy?” He asked, taking another bite of pancake doused with maple syrup.

Erik responded slowly. “Just sometimes,” he said, vaguely, swallowing, his movements very controlled. “When I first...got away from Shaw, I had a terrible sweet tooth for a while. I ate everything I could.” Erik stopped there. A part of him wanted to continue, tell Charles how thin he had gotten during his ‘training’ with Shaw...how for a week, at the worst of it, Shaw had decided Erik could only eat food that Shaw had chewed up and spit into his mouth...how some days his only nutrition had been the semen from Shaw’s cock. 

His gorge started to rise and Erik realized they needed to talk about something else right away. 

“If you are not from England, where are you from?” He asked Charles with a forced smile. 

Charles gave him a kind but assessing look. Erik had a feeling he wasn’t fooling Charles at all, but Charles graciously played along. “I grew up not far from here, actually.”

Charles talked about where he had grown up and what his family had been like. Even though he hadn’t had the best childhood, Erik was happy to focus on something that had nothing to do with Sebastian Shaw.

**

After brunch, Erik dropped Charles off at a mall that had an Apple Store so he could replace his phone. Charles had assured him that once he had a phone with internet he would be able to find and call a locksmith to get new house keys made. 

It made Erik nervous, the idea of Charles being without a way to communicate for another hour or more. What if he couldn’t get a new phone? What if he did and then he lost it? What if the locksmith took advantage of Charles? What if Shaw was already at his house, waiting for him?

The last thought made him cold, and as Charles got out of his car Erik hastily called, “Be sure the locksmith changes the locks completely - you don’t want Shaw having a key to your home that works.”

Charles’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s a good point! Thank you, Erik. I will call you once I’ve got it all sorted.”

Erik watched Charles enter the mall and took a few deep breaths. Charles was a competent adult; he would be fine. Erik needed to get to the studio so he could clean. 

The idea of cleaning calmed him down, fortunately. He pulled away from the curb. 

**

Erik got a call on his cell phone just after he stepped through the door of his studio. “Well, that was quick,” he said in surprise as he answered the phone, seeing Charles’ name on the caller ID. He waved a greeting to Emma, sitting at the reception desk.

“Um, hi, is, uh, Charles there?”

The voice was female and was speaking in hushed tones. Erik stopped walking immediately with a frown on his face as he looked at his phone. His caller ID said it was Charles. 

“Who is this?” he snapped, his stomach clenching as he remembered what Charles had said happened to his old phone. 

“My name is--Angel,” the girl said, haltingly. “Is this - Erik?”

“Do you work for Shaw?” Erik demanded. He wondered if it was one of Shaw’s subs.

“Not for much longer,” she said grimly and Erik relaxed a fraction. “I was the one who showed you what room he was is at the club last night.”

Erik relaxed a little bit more. Truth be told, he’d almost forgotten about her, but it suddenly came back to him - the tattooed girl finding him, guiding him to the room, and finally how she pointed out where Charles’ clothes were. Her behavior, in retrospect, seemed like she was trying to help, but Erik wasn’t in the habit of trusting people easily. 

“Okay,” Erik said carefully. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I’m a little concerned about why you are calling me.”

“Charles--what Shaw did to Charles--” Erik’s stomach clenched but the girl just sighed. “I’ve only been working for him a couple weeks. I didn’t really - understand until this weekend. Anyway, I may not have long to talk. I just wanted to tell you that Shaw has videos of Charles and he’s going to try to blackmail him with them, but he’s really trying to get to you.”

Erik should have felt more surprise, or rage. Instead, he felt a deep weariness. Of course Shaw wasn’t done with him or Charles. Had he really thought he could walk out of the Hellfire Club unchallenged? It was part of Shaw’s games. Probably he wanted to give Charles and Erik time to grow closer - hell, come to think of it, he’d even staged the dramatic rescue himself, telling each of them when to be there. Because if Charles and Erik were close - Shaw would have leverage against Erik.

Erik leaned against the wall, shaking, as Emma looked on in alarm. How could he have been so naive as to think he was in control? Shaw was in control, still pulling the strings. 

“Hey, are you still there?” Angel asked in his ear. 

Erik was surprised the phone was still on his ear. “Yes,” he said simply. He didn’t know what else to say. 

“Look, I’m gonna have to go,” She said hurriedly. “I--have Charles’ stuff, too, if he wants it back - I could meet with you guys if you want.” 

The call disconnected abruptly and Erik didn’t move for a moment. Emma was staring at him, her mouth slightly open. He was jolted into action again when his phone chimed with a text from Charles’ phone - a seven-digit phone number. How to reach Angel, no doubt. 

He stood in glazed silence. “I’m going to the garage,” he said to Emma, whose mouth had shut but who was still staring at him with something a little too close to pity for his comfort level, “to work out for a bit.”

Emma slowly nodded, her eyes wide. She knew Erik well enough not to ask. 

One of the reasons Erik had rented the studio space he did was because it came with a large garage. It was handy for parking his car in, of course, as parking spaces were at a premium in Manhattan, but he also used it as a workshop for his welding projects. He had made the bed and the bondage rack in the garage. 

He also had a corner set aside as a workout area. He didn’t belong to a gym, as Erik was the kind of person who preferred to work out alone. After some stretching and breathing exercises, he started on the body-sized punching bag, barefisted, imagining it was Shaw, punching hard, but rhythmically, ignoring the pain in his knuckles, remembering being on his knees on a hard wooden floor, remembering being restrained and flogged until he bled, breathing through the pain because he could take it even if he didn’t like it, remembering a buttplug being roughly pulled out of his ass and replaced by a cock…

“Erik! Jesus Christ, stop it!”

Erik stopped and blinked a few times at the blond woman who had interrupted him. It actually took him a few seconds to recognize Emma. His knuckles hurt, and when he looked at them he saw them covered in blood, as was the canvas of his punching bag. “Oh,” he said dumbly. 

She approached him cautiously. “Do you want to come sit down for a minute?” She said calmly. 

That sounded good. Erik followed her inside and she went directly to his studio. “Sit down,” she said, effortlessly dominant, indicating the sitting area behind the door. Erik sat, holding his still bleeding hands in front of him. 

She sat next to him a moment later with a first aid kit and a towel. She put the towel across his lap. “This is going to sting,” She said matter-of-factly as she poured hydrogen peroxide on the backs Erik’s hands. He inhaled sharply, hissing through his teeth, but bearing the pain without moving. 

“Tell me something good,” Emma directed as she ministered to his hands. “I can tell you’ve been dealing with something bad, so tell me something good.”

Erik smiled a little, not looking at her. “I have a boyfriend.”

Emma paused what she was doing to look at him and smile. “That _is_ something good,” she said approvingly, as she resumed bandaging his hands. “I hope it’s who I think it is?”

“Yes, it’s Charles,” Erik said with a slightly bigger smile. He allowed himself to relax for a moment in that happy thought. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Emma said, finishing his bandages. “Did you--get all the bad out of your system?”

“That will never happen,” Erik said seriously, then shook his head sharply, as if he was shaking something out of his head. “Thank you, for--this.”

“I’m your assistant,” she replied, standing with a shrug. “I learned a long time ago how broad the job description really is.” Erik stood as well and Emma started to leave the room, but hesitated. “Is there anything else you need--anything I should be doing?”

Erik took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Whatever you usually do. I’m going to clean.”

She looked at him with raised, disapproving eyebrows. 

“I wear gloves, Emma,” Erik said irritably. “I always wear gloves to clean. It will be fine.”

“Okay,” she said doubtfully, and left the room. 

**

Erik cleaned everything thoroughly, never mind that he always cleaned _after_ sessions as well. Because no matter how well he had cleaned the previous time, it seemed he would always find a spot that warranted the whole surface being disinfected again. He was trying to be careful of the wounds on the back on his knuckles, although he felt a certain satisfaction from the pain: _he’d_ done it, no one else, he had control of that. 

Erik tried to mull over the blackmail situation as he cleaned without feeling overwhelmed by it. Was there some way he could get a leg up on Shaw? Presumably Shaw didn’t know that Angel was sympathetic to Charles...unless he had put her up to the call?

It was probably four in the afternoon when Erik heard a familiar voice at the door to his studio. 

“Hey, lover.”

Erik looked up at the sound of Charles’ voice to see his boyfriend--his _boyfriend_ \--beaming at him.

“Well hello!” He rose to give Charles a kiss. “Not that I’m not very happy to see you, but I thought you were going to call me?” It was impossible to see Charles in this environment and not remember the times Charles had been here with him before, to remember what Charles looked like, tied up and begging for cock. 

Charles shrugged. “I wanted to come here.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Erik’s neck. 

“Oh? Why’s that?” Charles had the front of his body pressed to Erik’s and Erik’s body was noticing, dammit. It was a problem because Erik was determined not to rush Charles about sex after the weekend he’d had.

Charles adopted a coy expression. “Oh, I had noticed that you didn’t have any of your toys at your home. So I thought we might have a little more fun if we played here.”

Erik groaned as Charles gently moved his hands on Erik’s back, looking up at Erik with an expression that was the perfect balance of sex and innocence. 

Erik pulled away reluctantly, subtly trying to readjust his erection. “Charles - do you think - I mean, are you really ready for that? After...the weekend you’ve had?”

Charles frowned slightly. “I...I am ready, Erik, although I very much appreciate and understand your concern. I admit there are...certain things that have the potential to upset me, but...I was thinking I could tell you what those things are, then you’ll know what not to do?” Charles’ face was red by the time he had finished speaking. 

Erik looked at Charles contemplatively. He didn’t want to rush Charles, but this seemed to be coming from _Charles_ , not simply as a response to Erik’s erection. 

Charles seemed to take Erik’s hesitation for the indecision it was. He licked his lips. “I feel like--like I need to be tied up by someone I trust,” he said, almost whispering. He smiled a little, then added, “And I really want you to fuck me.”

Erik’s resistance was gone, but he retained control. He wanted to do this right, to minimize the chance that something would trigger Charles. “Charles,” he said carefully, “I can’t imagine anything I’d like to do more right now than tie you up and fuck you.”

Charles was clearly waiting for a ‘but’ - he was, in fact, literally holding his breath. 

“So I’m going to,” Erik said simply, a small smile gracing his lips. “Provided we can talk things through beforehand as we usually do.”

Charles inhaled in delighted surprise. “Of course!” he said. 

Erik went to tell Emma that he was not to be disturbed and she gave him a knowing glance. 

He brought a form back with him to Charles. Charles’ eyes fell on it with confusion. “Am I - oh, of course, I’m--paying you?” Charles was blushing. 

“No,” Erik said calmly. “You are not paying me. I brought the form because I thought you might find it easier to write down anything you want me to...avoid. You can tell me if you’d rather,” he said quickly. “entirely up to you.”

Charles blinked at him. “I think--yes, I’ll write it down,” he said.

Erik watched Charles, enjoying even this almost as much as foreplay: anticipation, negotiation, planning a scenario around Charles’ limitations that would bring him to the edge of ecstasy and keep him there as long as possible. 

When Charles finished writing, he passed the form to Erik, biting his lip and looking down slightly. Erik knew that in all likelihood the reaction was caused at least in part by shame, but it was still a very submissive response and it made Erik have an erection that he didn’t bother to hide. 

He looked over Charles paper, where Charles had written: 

_Please avoid:_  
BLINDFOLD  
Wax  
gags  
Making me beg  
Making me give head  
Feeding me by hand  
Calling me pet  
Calling me good boy  
bitch, whore, slut, etc. 

Erik deliberately did not think about how those things had come to be distasteful to Charles, even if he felt a pang that ‘good boy’ was on the list - Charles had so enjoyed that. He contemplated the list for a moment before looking up at Charles. Maybe he would enjoy it again, in time.

“Are there any things you would specifically like today?” He asked, trying to balance his demeanor between his usual professional detachment and being a concerned boyfriend. 

Charles seemed surprised by the question. “Umm...well...I think it might be fun if you were...I don’t know, clinical? Emotionless? Like I am...an object that you are investigating...I don’t know.” Charles stopped, embarrassed. 

“Emotionless,” Erik repeated thoughtfully. “How do you feel about role-play, Charles?”

A funny look crossed Charles’ face. “I...guess it depends on the roles,” he said after a moment. 

“Well, I was thinking that perhaps I am an android - a robot in human form - and I am--” Erik smiled, “--investigating human sexuality.”

Charles was finally losing some of his blush. “That sounds good,” he said shyly, licking his bottom lip. “So maybe I’m - your creator? A scientist, that you’ve kidnapped for your - nefarious purposes?”

Erik’s mouth curved into a flirty smile. “Do you want me to call you Dr. Xavier?” 

Charles was called Dr. Xavier all the time, by his students, but not in _that_ voice. “Yes, please,” he breathed. 

Erik paused as an outline began to form in his mind. “Since you said you wanted me to fuck you - anal penetration is okay? I mean, with a dldo, or buttplug?”

Charles pupils widened perceptibly. “More than okay. Unless that’s instead of you fucking me?”

“We’ll see,” Erik said nonchalantly, enjoying the way Charles shifted at his words. “Nipple play still good?”

“Yes,” Charles breathed. “Very good.”

Erik paused. “I’m going to suggest a few things, but I won’t be the least bit bothered if you don’t like my suggestions, alright?”

“Ooh, okay,” Charles said eagerly, almost squirming in his delight.

“I have a [leather cock ring with two loops](http://c3.q-assets.com/images/products/p/zpn/zpn-3185_1.jpg) \- one goes around your balls and one around your cock,” Erik said calmly, as if he was discussing the weather. “It’s a nice, confining feeling, not terribly painful; won’t prevent you from coming but it might delay it a bit.”

“Based on your description it sounds good, but I won’t really know until I feel it on me,” Charles said thoughtfully. “But I’m sure you’ll take it off if I don’t like it, and I’m curious, so, yes.”

Erik smiled at Charles. “How do you feel about [riding crops](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/84/Riding_crop.jpeg)?”

Charles’ eyes widened. “Sounds intense.”

“It can be,” Erik said carefully. “Like anything, it really depends on how much force is behind the blow. The benefit is the striking surface area is small and thus easily controlled. I don’t want to hit you in any places that are already hurt,” he said gently, thinking of the wax burns on Charles’ ass.

“And you can - make all this a part of the role-play?” Charles said doubtfully. 

Erik couldn’t help but smile. “This is what I do, Charles.” He stood up and stretched, looking forward to the scene he had planned. “I need to shower first, though.”

“Ooh, can I shower with you?” Charles grinned at him, blue eyes sparkling.

Erik narrowed his eyes playfully at Charles. “I have a feeling we wouldn’t be able to keep our hands off each other. Wouldn’t you rather save it for the scene?” A tiny piece of guilt snaked its way through Erik's gut but he ignored it. 

“Right,” Charles with a smile. “Well, I’ll shower in here, so we don’t waste time then.” He grinned at Erik. 

Erik gave him a kiss, hot with promise. “I’ll bring you soap and a towel,” he murmured. 

He didn’t think Charles noticed him picking up the first aid kit on his way to the private shower.

**

Once Erik had showered, he carefully rebandaged his hands and slipped on a pair of bondage gloves over them. _This is for Charles’ protection,_ he told himself, as well as, _I will tell him about it after._

Charles was naked and drying himself off when Erik came back into the room. “Don’t bother getting dressed,” Erik said in a smoky voice. He was pleased to see Charles was half-hard already. “Safe words?”

“Red for stop, yellow for pause.” Charles was nearly vibrating with excitement. 

Erik nodded. “I should warn you: I take role-play very seriously. Even if you break character, I won’t, unless you safeword. If I feel you are confused about reality versus the scene, I will safeword. Do you understand?” Erik had started to adopt traits of the character he would inhabit already.

Charles nodded then added belatedly, “Yes.”

[Erik regarded Charles for a moment without saying anything](http://www.michaelfassbender.org/david8-110.jpg), then extended an arm towards the bed. “Please lie down, Dr. Xavier. This is a routine physical examination.”

“Oh, and you’re qualified to give those, are you?” Despite his words, Charles lay down where indicated. 

“I am as you programmed me to be.” Erik went into a drawer in his toy cabinet and brought out what looked like a little black velvet pillow with some D-rings on it. “Sit up for a moment and put your hands above your head, please.”

Bemused, Charles sat up with his hands slightly raised. Erik put each of Charles’ hands into matching openings in the opposite ends of the little pillow, slightly behind Charles’ head, and tightened the wrist straps around the openings to secure his wrists. Inside the pillow, Charles’ hands would be in separate compartments, overlapping each other, but firmly held inside. 

Charles eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you trying to keep me from using my hands?”

“Only momentarily,” Erik said in his evenly modulated android voice. “This is a highly advanced piece of technology that will give me a lot of the data I need. I suggest you lie back and use this as a pillow.”

Acting as if he were feeling cautiously accepting of Erik’s explanation, Charles lay back down, his head on the pillow that his hands were locked into. 

“Are you comfortable?” Android-Erik asked. 

“Yes, very,” Charles responded honestly. 

“Excellent. There’s just one more part of the device to engage,” Eik said as he leaned forward and buckled two straps coming out of either end of the pillow around Charles’ neck.

Now Charles’ hands were being held firmly, if comfortably, behind his head, because Charles could not move his hands from behind his head with the collar in place. Charles responded sharply, as if he were starting to feel some fear. “Is that really necessary?”

“It really is,” Erik assured him with a bland expression. 

Charles was finding Erik’s detached, android persona very arousing. 

“I’m going to lift your leg,” Erik said smoothly, lifting one of Charles’ legs slowly but firmly until he was satisfied with the angle.

“What kind of exam are you trying to do?” Charles asked in mock-alarm, as Erik put a padded leather shackle around his ankle. 

“I told you, Dr. Xavier. A physical exam.” Erik ran a strap from the ankle shackle to a D-ring on the pillow and then tightened the strap. Charles’ bent leg was pulled a little bit more towards his head. 

“Stop that! Wait, what do I call you...Erik?” Erik wasn’t sure if that was Charles breaking character or not.

“You can call me Erik, if you wish,” Erik said, as he put a shackle around Charles’ other ankle and mirrored what he had done on the other side, strapping it to a D-ring on the pillow. “You created me, after all. I believe that by human custom that gives you naming rights.” 

Erik paused to admire his handiwork. Charles’ body legs were pulled up so that he was bent almost double, both knees bent. He had plenty of play from side to side, but it took more effort to keep his legs closed than open. And his ass was very exposed, wide open for Erik to play with. His stiff red cock rested on his belly, a drop of precum beading at its tip. 

“I don’t think all this is necessary for a physical exam,” Charles said, playing the scared scientist. “Untie me, Erik.”

Erik stroked a gloved hand down Charles’ chest. “Relax, Dr. Xavier,” he said, with a tiny enigmatic smile. “I have to confess, I have more in mind than just a physical exam.”

Charles stared at Erik, his eyes wide with pretend fear. “I didn’t program you to do this.”

Erik used his fingertip to swipe the bit of precum off the tip of Charles’ cock and brought it to his mouth, closing his eyes and making a show of savoring the taste. “You programmed me to learn, Dr. Xavier. So I’m learning.”

“You’re learning what, how to violate people?” Charles struggled against his bonds, but between the collar around his neck, the way his hands were trapped, and the straps going between his ankles and the pillow, all he could really do was turn on his side. He didn’t know if that would mess up Erik’s plan, but he was beginning to realise that Erik could deal with pretty much any contingency Charles threw at him and still make it hot. 

Erik looked at him expressionlessly, blinking a few times. “I can see I will have to take further steps to immobilize you in order to carry out the experiments I plan to do.”

“Experiments?” Charles exclaimed, as Erik calmly walked back to the toy cabinet and retrieved something. He came back and easily rolled Charles back onto his back and kept him there by pressing a gloved hand flat on his chest. With his other hand, Erik teased Charles’ nipple. 

“What kind of experiments?” Charles asked, breathing hard. 

“They fall mostly in two categories,” Erik answered, leaning down down flick his tongue at Charles’ nipple. Charles let out a soft exhalation of pleasure despite himself. “Sexual experiments, and those involving pain.” Erik put a nipple clamp on the nipple he had just teased erect. 

“Oh, fuck,” Charles moaned, loving the feeling and still trying to stay in character. 

“Excellent,” Erik murmured, then moved to Charles’ other nipple with his mouth. Charles was breathing hard and rocking his hips slightly by the time Erik deemed Charles’ right nipple erect enough for a clamp. 

“Eyes open, Dr. Xavier.” Erik’s voice had a sharp quality to it and Charles snapped his eyes open - he hadn’t realized they were shut. Erik continued in a more moderated tone, “I need you to see how this works, so you don’t accidentally cause yourself more pain than you intend to.” 

Charles blinked and saw what Erik was indicating: both nipple clamps were attached to individual elastic strings, something with some spring in it. The other ends of the strings were connected to Charles’ ankle shackles. 

The nipple clamps were already being pulled up by the tension in the string, and the slightest movement of Charles legs increased the tension. He moved his legs up just a tiny increment and watched and felt his nipples get tugged on. It was unbearably hot, since he was so aroused he was incapable of holding _absolutely_ still, yes every movement tugged on his nipples in way that was just short of excruciating. 

“I don’t suggest you try and turn over,” Erik said casually, as he walked back over to the toy cabinet. “I think you would find it rather painful.”

Charles couldn’t help but test the idea, but he found that the first step in turning over was moving one of his legs to shift his weight - which he couldn’t do without encountering more pull on his nipple than he could tolerate. 

Erik came back over to him, his hands occupied with some objects that Charles viewed with mock-fear. “Have you satisfied yourself that I wasn’t lying to you, Dr. Xavier?”

“You were lying to me,” Charles gritted out, although most of his tension at this point came from having to keep his hips from rocking. “You told me it was a just physical examination.”

“That wasn’t a lie,” Erik said. “I do plan on examining you rather closely.” He lightly touched Charles’ cock with one finger, drawing a line on it. Charles’ made a strangled sound as he jerked involuntarily in surprise at the touch - which tugged on his nipples. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered. 

Erik, seemingly completely unperturbed, gave him a small enigmatic smile. “That was interesting. I’d almost think you were enjoying yourself, Dr. Xavier.”

“Fuck you,” Charles said, enjoying being able to be rebellious and not fear the consequences. The character Erik was playing was unruffled. 

“We’ll get to that, Doctor,” Erik said. “First, I’d like try a few things.”

Erik wrapped something around Charles’ balls and cock and snapped it into place. The a second strap went around Charles’ cock. 

Charles tried to hold still as Erik handled his cock with a carefully detached precision, but he was embarrassed to hear that energy rechanneled through his mouth as he moaned. 

“What beautiful sounds you make, Dr. Xavier,” Erik said softly. “It’s better than music.”

Charles just whimpered. He was almost beyond words. The double cock ring was not painful, but it made him feel even more confined than he already was...a feeling he was enjoying very much. 

“I hope you don’t think we’re done, Doctor,” Erik said, his voice smooth and even. “We’ve hardly begun.” He dropped out of Charles’ sight.

Charles breathed shallowly in anticipation of feeling a finger or a toy enter him, but instead he felt something that made his eyes go wide with shock. “Oh my god,” he said out loud, as his mind quickly interpreted the sensation he must be feeling...Erik’s tongue was there, licking at his hole, licking up to tongue at the base of his balls and then going back down to his sphincter, pointed and pushing inside. 

Charles keened and arched his back, which pulled dreadfully on his nipples. It was an exquisite crux of agony and ecstasy. Erik was now fucking Charles’ ass with his tongue, a action which felt incredibly intimate, something which Charles had fantasized about being forced to do to someone else but which he had never actually experienced, from either side of the interaction. 

It was almost too intense. He thought about saying his safeword but just when he was sure he couldn’t take any more Erik stopped and Charles just trembled, his jaw working but no sounds coming. 

“Do say something, Doctor,” Erik said mildly. “What’s the point of experiments if I can’t gather data about the results?”

“That was intense,” Charles finally said in a breathy voice. 

“Yellow,” Erik said, coming up to sit next to Charles and stroke his hair. “Intense is not always good,” Erik said, himself again, with concern on his features. “Is everything alright? Do you want me to do anything differently?”

Charles felt a rush of love for the man sitting next to him. “You are amazing,” he said honestly. “I--I could you just stay where I can see you though?”

Erik closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Of course,” he said softly, as much to himself as to Charles. He tugged lightly on the elastic string attached to one of Charles’ nipple clamps, earning him a gasp. 

“You might find the next thing I want to do to be very intense as well,” Erik said. “Do you want me to tell you what that is?”

Charles smiled and bit his lip, shaking his head no. If he’d thought about it enough he could have recalled what he and Erik had discussed before their scene, but he liked the idea of being surprised. 

Suddenly Erik was Android!Erik again, although all he had done was sit up straighter and move a few muscles in his face. “Are you ready for the next phase of my experiment, Dr. Xavier?”

“You’re an abomination,” Charles said flatly. “Once my colleagues find me…”

“Nobody is going to find you, Doctor,” Erik said. “You are mine, to do with as I please, as you once I thought I was yours.” Erik stroked a hand down Charles body, pushing one knee a bit so that it pulled on Charles’ nipple and he whimpered. 

“I notice you have a small opening back here,” Erik said, letting his hand stroke over Charles’ penis and past it, down Charles’ crack. “I’m curious to see what will fit in there.”

“No,” said Charles, “No, you can’t--”

[The rounded tip of something cold and metal](http://pmcdn.priceminister.com/photo/plug-heavy-metal-butt-plug-en-acier-en-promo-917065169_ML.jpg) breached Charles’ sphincter and he sucked his words back in. It was smooth, and apparently also covered with slick, and Erik began pushing it in and then pulling it back out, watching Charles’ face the whole time. 

Charles’ mouth fell open at the sensation. What he had first thought was a dildo seemed to be more in the shape of a butt plug, as it seemed to get wider the deeper it was inside him. He moaned unashamedly as Erik slowly worked it in and out of his ass, feeling the broadest part finally pass the rim. He stared determinedly into Erik’s eyes, his face contorted, his jaw slack. 

“Touch my cock,” Charles whispered desperately, hoping that Erik remembered he didn’t want to beg. Instead, Erik leaned over and started licking his cock, little flicks of his tongue right around the edge of the head. 

Charles couldn’t help but squirm at all the stimulation, which tugged on his nipples. 

Erik sank the buttplug home as the finally took the head of Charles’ cock in his mouth. Charles clenched around the buttplug, feeling deliciously full, when Erik pulled his head off his cock. 

“I’m so glad you finally decided to cooperate, Dr. Xavier,” Erik said. “My final experiments may be ones you are not quite so fond of.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Charles gasped, knowing he was breaking character and not caring. 

“Please let me know the level of pain you experience, Doctor.”

Charles looked at Erik and saw a riding crop in his hand. “Oh god,” a bolt of fear shot through him. What if it hurt?

Erik tapped him with the riding crop on the back of his thigh. Charles panted because it was nice, it wasn’t that hard - he actually wanted it a little harder. 

“Please let me know the level of pain you experience, Doctor.” Erik repeated the exact same words with the exact same inflection and for a split second, Charles wondered if he really was a robot, a being made to give more pleasure to Charles than he thought was possible. “Four,” he finally said. 

“Thank you, Doctor. Your cooperation is appreciated.” Erik struck him again a little harder, on the opposite thigh. 

“Perfect,” Charles moaned, not able to think in anything so concrete as numbers. “Whatever number perfect is.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Doctor. I’m going to put the most sensitive tool I have inside you in order to get more measurements.”

“Yes, finally, fuck me,” Charles moaned, giving up being in character completely, and yet still appreciating that Erik could stay in character. Well, he had warned Charles. 

Erik slowly pulled the buttplug out, working the widest part in and out a few times, making sure Charles was fully stretched. 

Charles watched as Erik poised himself at Charles’ entrance. Erik had one hand on the bed next to Charles and one on his cock, guiding it in. 

Charles saw Erik watching his face, Erik still amazingly in character, as he breached Charles’ asshole with his cock, pushing it in with less resistance than usual due to the effect of the buttplug. In fact, his cock was fully buried inside Charles in a matter of seconds. 

“I think these are going to get in the way of my completing this experiment,” Erik said thoughtfully, twanging of the of the elastic strings attached to Charles’ nipple and making Charles writhe. He leaned forward and unclamped Charles’ left nipple, feeling Charles’ ass tighten around his cock as the blood rushed painfully back into his nipple. Erik licked at the newly freed nipple and Charles made a high-pitched whine. 

“That was very enlightening, Doctor. Shall I do the other side?”

“Yes, please,” Charles said in a broken voice, bracing himself when pain flooded his other nipple as well, slightly lessened by Erik’s soft tongue on it. 

“I’m gathering so much excellent data,” Erik murmured, starting to fuck Charles, maddeningly slowly. He was up on his knees now, not putting weight on his hands, and Charles watched the muscles in his abdomen clench with every slow thrust. 

“You are a work of art,” Charles panted. 

“Then you are a talented artist,” Erik responded, the expression on his face still bland and robotic. Charles watched as Erik picked up the riding crop. 

“Yes,” he said, not afraid of it now, not now that he had felt it. Erik delivered a perfect strike to his torso several inches below his sore nipples and Charles watched as a small red spot appeared. 

“More,” Charles said. Erik continued to fuck him evenly, with measured stroked, and struck him several times again, never in exactly the same spot, on his abdomen. 

Charles suddenly craved a gag, although he knew Erik wouldn’t give him one. He let his head roll to the side, his eyes closed as every strike felt like pleasure instead of pain as Erik kept fucking him and striking him with the riding crop. 

Then there was a change in the pattern. “What? Why did you stop?” He asked, blearily looking at Erik. 

“I wanted to add the final part of my experiment, Doctor.” A slick, gloved hand grasped his cock and started slowly stroking. Charles watched with eyes barely open as his beautiful boyfriend starting fucking him again, still slowly, in the same rhythm his cock was being stroked. 

And then--the riding crop started striking him on the backs on his thighs. 

Charles’ was barely aware that his head was back and he was yelling. He was torn between absolute disbelief that Erik could be so coordinated and ecstatic, floaty pleasure. He knew he should be looking at at Erik but all he wanted was to stay in this perfect moment forever...and a moment later he realized that no, he wanted to come, and he was going to, but he wanted Erik to come first. 

“Fuck me hard,” he gasped. “I want you to come first.”

Erik dropped the riding crop and his hands gripped Charles on his hips as Erik took Charles at his word, fucking into him hard and fast. Charles watched Erik through eyes that were barely open as Erik finally let his face reflect what he was doing; his brow knitted and his mouth dropped open; sweat dripping down his face as he fucked Charles hard. 

Erik slowed down slightly and made a soft sound as he started to come and he immediately gripped Charles cocked and worked it expertly as his other hand gently stroked one of Charles’ sore nipples. Charles started to come within seconds, and Erik unsnapped the cock ring immediately, even as Charles’ ass clenched around Erik’s still-coming cock in his ass. Erik gritted his teeth and groaned loudly at the too-intense sensation. 

“Erik,” Charles suddenly said, a note of horror in his voice. “You’re bleeding.”

Erik forgot about his vice-gripped cock for a moment as he looked where Charles was looking. Blood was dripping out of the slightly flared wrist of the black PVC glove he was wearing. 

“Oops, sorry about that,” Erik said casually, as if _dripping blood on a client_ wasn’t his worst nightmare. He pulled his cock out of Charles carefully, holding the rim of the condom.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why are you bleeding?” There was a note of panic in Charles’ voice that made Erik ache. 

There was still blood dripping from his glove, and Erik had to hold his hands facing down to avoid dripping all over Charles, but Charles was still tied up. “I can untie you or I can see to this,” he said calmly. He knew Charles had to be extremely uncomfortable, and if he tried to untie him before he dealt with his gloves, he would bleed all over Charles, as it was really coming out of his glove. He was loathe to do that.

Charles’ face was a mask of pain and indecision. “Shit! I can’t really take this much longer, my legs--dammit. Can Emma untie me?”

Erik gave Charles a very surprised look. “Are you--okay with that?”

“It felt like you were wearing a condom, so I guess I’m not leaking out my ass?” 

Erik smiled despite himself. “No, you’re not.”

“Then it’s fine. Do what you need to do. I’m sure she’s seen worse. But please, tell her to hurry?”

Erik rushed out to the reception area, still sweaty and naked from sex, except for his gloves. “Can you untie Charles?” 

Her head snapped up from whatever she’s been looking at on her phone to gawk at him in astonishment. “ _What?”_

“Now, please,” he snapped at her, trusting her to do it, as he went to the bathroom where the first aid kit was. He grimaced as he pulled off the gloves, feeling horribly guilty that he’d ruined the scene with Charles because of his own stupidity. The bandages he’d put on not an hour before were soaked with blood, any scabs that had been forming had been ripped off by his own exuberance. 

He cleaned the wounds and re-bandaged them. By the time he came out of the bathroom, Charles appeared showered and dressed and he and Emma were sitting down together in the sitting area and laughing about something. Charles stopped laughing abruptly when he saw Erik. 

“When we you planning on telling me about this?” He demanded. Emma gave Erik a shrug as she slipped out of the room.

“You should see the other guy,” Erik joked, but it fell flat. 

Charles crossed his arms. “Emma told me what you did,” he said, clearly unhappy. “Erik - I knew something was bothering you, but I had no idea it would drive you to self-harm.”

“I didn’t--” Erik protested and then cut himself off with a sigh when he realized that’s exactly what he had done. “I’m sorry, Charles. I’ve been having some trouble--” he took a deep breath as he felt anxiety about what his lack of control would look like to Charles. He forced himself to continue. “I thought I had managed to put--the way Shaw trained me--behind me,” he said haltingly, his throat dry. The word _abuse_ flitted about Erik’s brain but he couldn’t say that to Charles. “But after what he did to you--”

Charles hugged him, even though he was still sweaty and naked. “Oh my god, Erik, of course. I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to worry about me--I’m okay, honestly. And Shaw doesn’t have to be a part of our lives at all anymore.”

Erik looked into Charles’ beautiful blue eyes and he almost believed him for a moment--oh, he wanted to believe him--but Erik remembered his conversation with Angel on the phone earlier and how Shaw planned to blackmail Charles. And he knew he should tell Charles, but Erik suddenly realized there may be a way he could take care of the problem without Charles ever knowing. 

Erik leaned forward and kissed Charles tenderly. “I have big favor to ask you,” he murmured. 

“Your wish is my command, love.”

Erik smiled affectionately at his boyfriend. “I just bandaged my hands for the third time today and I desperately need to shower, but I don’t want to get my hands wet. Would you--wash me?”

Charles gave him a slow smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for self-harm and for descriptions of past abuse.
> 
> Update: Charles & Erik roleplay a scene where Erik is a David 8-like character and Charles is a scientist that Erik has "captured" to do "experiments" - nipple clamps, rimming, riding crop, buttplug - but he starts it off by saying he is going to perform a "physical examination". Two people have commented that I should warn for medical kink but I don't personally think it's medical kink - there's no catheters, enemas, giant thermometers, etc. To me it's Creepy Android kink. I'd actually like some more opinions on this if you have a moment, but anyway, you've been warned!


	9. Shaw's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning (and spoilers) in end notes

Some days, Sebastian resented the necessity of having _clients._

Not that he didn’t like dominating people - he did, immensely. But people who paid him to be dominated really were just asking to be coddled, not pushed to their limits. They wanted someone who would spank them at a level they felt comfortable with so they could get off and go home and forget about it until the craving came over them again. They didn't want to _live_ it.

 _Cows,_ Sebastian thought uncharitably. It was hard to convert clients into really good subs. The kind of sub Sebastian craved and valued was the person who didn’t even know they were a sub - someone rebellious and and hotheaded and who wanted to be broken, but who had buried that desire down so deep they weren't even aware of it themselves. Someone who fought every step of the way - until they caved. Because that caving was magnificent. 

The Monday after his retreat, Shaw had two clients, and they exhausted him, especially after he'd had such a physically strenuous weekend. His weekend had gone pretty much as planned, although it had gone a little off the rails when Erik showed up early to rescue his little boyfriend, but he told himself it wasn’t _that_ big a difference - he had been looking forward that Xavier boy’s mouth again, but he could get a good blowjob anywhere, really. 

Sebastian usually came home for a few hours before he would be expected to be back at the club again in the evenings. He wasn’t the sole owner of the Hellfire Bondage Club, but he’d had a falling out with the other owner recently and Shaw felt it was necessary to keep up a presence at the club - even when he’d just rather be home with his house subs. 

They were waiting for him on their knees when he walked in the front door, naked except for their collars, his personal slaves: two women and a man.

He really wanted another man to round out his collection, but he tried not to think about that. 

If Slut was breathing a little hard, like she had rushed to get into position, that wasn’t really a problem for Sebastian. It showed him how devoted she was. However...she was supposed to have been there already, calmly waiting for him. He caressed her gently on the cheek. “I’ll punish you a little later,” he whispered into her ear, and she trembled with excitement. 

He smiled indulgently. Sometimes they misbehaved, just a little, to get a little extra attention. It was understandable. Subs were like children; they couldn’t always articulate their needs and had to be watched very carefully for clues. 

“Cocksucker,” he sat, sitting down in his recliner with a sigh, “Blowjob.”

Cocksucker crawled to him, his eyes submissively down, until he was in front of Sebastian. He started to unbutton Sebastian’s pants a little too eagerly until Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair and tightened until the young man winced in pain. “Slow down,” Sebastian said gently, “I want to savor the anticipation.”

Cocksucker obediently slowed down. 

In all fairness, Sebastian wasn’t that consistent in what he wanted. He liked telling them to do it differently, and subs craved direction, so it all worked out. 

He sighed contentedly as Cocksucker’s warm mouth enveloped Sebastian’s cock. He certainly was good at it, softly moaning like the whore he was around the head, with no shame. 

Whore and Slut were still kneeling obediently by the door. All three of his subs were in excellent physical health, if a little on the thin side, because Sebastian liked them that way. He kept careful track of their caloric intake and exercise routines in addition to his responsibilities as a professional dom and part-owner of a bondage club - it was a lot of work, juggling all those responsibilities, but Sebastian wasn’t neglectful. If he left a sub tied up and ignored for a few hours, it was never without good reason. And maybe sometimes it was more than a few hours, but that was the price to pay for having excellent subs.

Sebastian looked over at the two on their knees, just wanting to relax into his blowjob, but he had a responsibility to them, too. They needed to feel like they were doing their part to please him or they would get depressed, the poor creatures. 

“Whore, make me my drink. You can walk,” he conceded, because they only crawled unless he gave them explicit permission to do otherwise, and trying to make and bring him a drink was too logistically complicated for him to expect her to crawl. Sometimes, he would present them with “no-win” situations - there was nothing a sub liked better sometimes than to have no choice but to disobey - but he didn’t really have time for that right now. 

And, since he was running short on time, he thought he might as well flog Slut right now too. “Slut, go get my flogger - on your knees, you little bitch, don’t think that just because Whore gets to walk that you do too - and bring it to me.”

She flushed prettily and started to crawl down the hall. 

Shaw closed his eyes and relaxed into his blowjob. His mind wandered to why he was so irritated - it had all started last week, when Erik had shown up in the back room spitting fire and leading some little twink out of there on a collar. It was painfully obvious to Shaw that Erik cared about the boy a lot - even, if he had to admit it to himself, more than he had ever cared about Shaw. That thought hurt the most.

Shaw thought he had been very mature about his break-up with Erik. Erik insisted he was a dom - fine. He started a competing business - fine. He even came to Shaw’s club to recruit new clients - also fine, but mostly because Erik’s dom “techniques” attracted exactly the kind of clients that bored Shaw the most. 

But to show up in the back rooms and punch Azazel over that little piece of fluff, under Sebastian’s nose - that was crossing the line. Rubbing his new lover in his old lover’s face--

Cocksucker made a choking sound and Sebastian realized he had been forcing his cock down his sub's throat. Sebastian pulled the boy up by his hair and made soothing noises while Cocksucker just breathed heavily for a moment. “You just can’t suck me as deep as I want you to, it’s okay,” Sebastian said soothingly. He never apologized to them - it made him appear weak. But he would forgive them for their faults easily - well, usually. It depended on if it was something they should know better or not.

He should probably take the time to fuck them all soundly sometime this week - in all their holes, so they felt completely used and owned by their master. He really should tonight, after being away all weekend, but he still had to go back to the club tonight, and considering how many holes that was, it just seemed - exhausting.

Sebastian sighed and indicated to Cocksucker with a hand motion that he’d rested long enough and he could finish Sebastian’s blowjob now. As Cocksucker resumed, the ugly thought crossed his mind that maybe he was getting too old to support a household with three slaves. He just didn’t have the sexual energy he used to. He could order them to fuck each other, and did, sometimes, but it felt like a waste to have three subs if he wasn’t fucking all of them on a regular basis. 

He could sell one or two of them, he mused - they were well-enough trained to accept that, even if they would probably feel horribly betrayed after - but, of course, ‘after’ wasn’t his problem, once they had been sold. And he felt some responsibility to them because although there were plenty of wannabe “masters” worldwide wanting well-trained, beautiful slaves, Sebastian had a very reasonable concern that they would be used for snuff films, or by people who didn’t really understand all the responsibilities inherent in being a dom - that those people would just dispose of these beautiful, submissive creatures. Shaw had put significant effort into making his subs perfect and he felt protective of his creations.

Still - he would have traded all three if Erik would be his house sub. 

Whore returned with his drink and kneeled next to him, eyes down. “Thank you, Whore,” Sebastian said, reaching over to tug her hair lightly. She deserved some kind of reward, but he was too tired to put any effort into it. “You may suck my come from Cocksucker’s mouth after I climax,” he decided, pleased.

“Thank you, Master,” she replied.

Slut appeared again, crawling with the handle of the flogger clenched in her teeth. Sebastian chuckled in spite of himself at the sight. He was feeling a little better already - his subs did make him happy, even if it wasn’t as happy as he would be with the sub he really wanted. His mind wandered as he watched Slut crawling closer.

Sebastian had noticed Erik immediately the first time he’d seen him, about five years before. He’d been a striking figure, this lost-looking, gorgeous man wearing [tight gray jeans and a ripped T-shirt](https://41.media.tumblr.com/00bb219910d87093f6555f0883bbb267/tumblr_nmqymrFqBO1u4wcs2o1_500.png) that didn’t do much to hide his trim, muscular body. Sebastian had been immediately smitten, but he not a man to make the first move. Instead, he made a point to flog a few people in front of Erik, a few times, over a few months, until he had caught Erik’s attention - and he did. 

Several months after the first time Sebastian had seen Erik for the first time, after Erik had witnessed him flog probably a dozen people, Erik approached him to ask about training...to be a dom. Sebastian had almost snorted; the man was deluding himself. So Sebastian politely declined, telling Erik that he really didn’t know what he was asking. 

Erik had been sullen but not completely deterred. Occasionally, Sebastian would observe Erik whip people, would see Erik glancing at Sebastian’s face when he thought Sebastian wouldn’t see, subconsciously looking for approval, for guidance - Sebastian made sure all he ever saw was doubt and disapproval. He knew he would have to string Erik along for quite a while before the man would get stubborn enough to give him what he wanted, but Sebastian was nothing if not patient.

Sebastian’s reminiscing was interrupted when Slut arrived at his side with the flogger. “Stand up, bend over, and grab your ankles,” he directed roughly - the fellatio from Cocksucker was progressing nicely. Slut complied immediately and Shaw began rhythmically flogging her ass, only occasionally striking her pussy, not too hard. He always ramped up. That was kind of his thing. He returned to his thoughts.

After Erik had been pursuing Dom training from Shaw for a few months, Shaw reluctantly told Erik he would train him, but Erik had to do everything Shaw told him to, exactly. Erik readily agreed and Shaw had him sign a contract - he had learned the value of contracts early on. 

He started innocently enough, explaining that Erik had to know what everything felt like to a sub, and Erik did comply with every demand, every request - and if he technically sometimes he no choice but to comply that was just part of how Shaw worked. But Erik never truly gave in; he never broke. There was a moment with every sub that Shaw had trained when the sub would reach a point of complete dissolution, sobbing, promising to do anything for Sebastian. Erik had never reached that point and it had begun to feel like an obsession to Sebastian to get him there, as he pushed Erik harder and harder, trying to make him give up his control, or even just to make him cry - the closest he had gotten was when Erik had vomited at some of Shaw’s more extreme methods of controlling food intake. 

Sebastian’s attention was forced back to the present as Slut cried out, sobbing. Sebastian realized he had been whipping her a little harder than he had intended. “Well, next time, be waiting by the fucking door,” he snapped. He pushed her away from him and she fell on her hands with a soft cry. Sebastian returned to his thoughts, absentmindedly fucking up into Cocksucker's face as he got closer to orgasm. 

Erik hadn’t enjoyed being a sub, even though Sebastian was _sure_ that he craved it, deep down. He would take whatever Shaw dished out without complaint, other than a tightening of his lips - he would accept being fucked by whatever object Shaw had handy without so much as a whimper, even when that was a dildo and Shaw’s cock simultaneously - he would take any punishment, and it drove Shaw to distraction: Erik’s detachment was frustrating and yet wildly arousing to Shaw. 

And to think he had almost put that obsession behind him, until Charles Fucking Xavier had to show up. 

Even though the Xavier boy had been so easy to manipulate he hardly merited Shaw’s attention, at least some good had come out of it - with the footage Shaw had of Xavier, he now had some leverage over Erik. Maybe he could only get a foothold...but Sebastian could do a lot with a foothold. 

Shaw came at that thought, deep into Cocksucker’s mouth. “Give it to Whore,” he gasped, watching with a certain satisfaction as his male sub kissed his female sub and pushed Sebastian’s come into her mouth while she greedily sucked it from him. He made a mental note to subtract seventy-five calories from Whore’s dinner, and immediately revised it to sixty calories, because he couldn’t imagine that Cocksucker wouldn’t have kept a taste for himself, the greedy little cocksucker. He tousled the man’s hair with an affectionate sigh.

**

Erik couldn’t believe Charles’ house when he first walked inside. “You own this,” he stated flatly. Four bedrooms tastefully but generically furnished, a single family home, in Manhattan. Erik had no idea how much something like that would cost but he would be willing to bet it was worth more than Sebastian’s house in the Hamptons. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Charles sighed. “I would rather have rented but I was in a hurry and the estate agent said this property met my needs the best. I suspect it lined the estate agent’s pocket’s the best, too.”

“It’s...big,” Erik said awkwardly. It was almost so big that he felt agoraphobic. So much space was hard to control…”How do you have time to clean it all?” He blurted. 

“Oh, I have a housekeeper,” Charles said, his cheeks coloring a bit. “That reminds me; I’ll have to get new keys for her. Are you hungry?” He said the last sentence brightly, seeming to want to change the subject. 

Charles went into the kitchen and Erik trailed him. “She makes me some meals that I can re-heat, although we could also go for take-out, if you prefer,” he said, on the verge of babbling, looking in the refrigerator. “Oh, look, lasagne with heating instructions. Does that sound good to you?”

“Sure,” Erik said, bemused. A housekeeper who made him meals in advance, with heating instructions? This was a world Erik was not familiar with. Then he remembered the only other wealthy person he'd really ever known (not that Shaw ever _paid_ for housekeeping or cooking - he expected his subs to do that), which reminded Erik that he needed to take care of a few things. He glanced at the time and realized that he could still catch Emma at the studio if he texted her now. “I need to text Emma,” Erik said. “Please excuse me.”

Charles shook his head at him with a grin. “You don’t need to excuse yourself to text, but that’s cute.” He began puzzling out the lasagne directions as Erik texted to Emma: _**Please call Piggy ASAP and refer him to Shaw for future sessions.**_

 _ **?????**_ She immediately texted back. 

_**Apparently I’m fucking his step-brother,**_ Erik texted back, quickly followed by _**Do NOT tell him that!!**_

She sent him back a little yellow face with big eyes. Erik frowned at his phone. Sometimes this technology made him feel ancient. 

“How old are you?” He abruptly asked Charles. 

Charles smiled at him, having just put the lasagne in the oven. “Twenty-seven,” he said with a smile. “So can I ask you the same thing? I’ve been dying to.”

“You’ve been dying to ask? Then why haven’t you?” Erik said, teasingly. 

Charles came up to him and put his arms around Erik’s waist. He had a mischievous look on his face. “Well, it seemed rude to ask if you qualified for the senior brunch special.”

Erik’s draw dropped into an open-mouth smile as Charles laughed at his reaction. “You’re not too old to put over my knee and spank, you know,” Erik said, leaning in to nuzzle Charles’ ear.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Charles said with a satisfied smile, turning his head to kiss Erik. “So how old _are_ you?”

“Thirty-eight,” Erik said, kissing Charles’ neck. He wasn’t trying to start anything, necessarily, he just really liked having his lips on Charles. 

Charles hummed, his eyes closed, enjoying the kisses. “That’s about what I thought,” he said. “I did the math, from when you told me…” he trailed off. 

From when Erik told him about his family, right. Erik suddenly realized he hadn’t looked at his picture of Magda and Anya in days, or even thought about them, and he felt a surge of guilt. He pulled up the picture on his phone as Charles pulled back from him in confusion. 

Erik pulled up the picture and gazed at it for a moment, feeling completely awkward and horrible for doing this in front of Charles, but also not willing to cheapen the action by not looking fully, and seeing them, his family, the one thing that had made him feel worthwhile for many parts of his life, including some of the time he’d been with Shaw. He could cling to _They loved me, I am lovable_ most days...although there had been some days so bad that he hadn’t been able to believe that. 

“Is everything alright?” Charles asked softly, and Erik looked up to see him slightly blurry, which made Erik annoyed at himself, for losing control enough to tear up in front of Charles.

“Fine,” he said, swallowing back his feelings. “I always look at the picture of them, everyday, so I don’t forget them. It’s the only picture I have,” he added. 

“Oh, Erik.” Charles hugged him for a nice long moment. “You don’t always have to be strong,” Charles murmured. “You’re a human being and you’ve been through a lot of unpleasant things. It’s okay to be sad.”

Charles' words almost didn't make sense to Erik; he didn't know how to process them. He gave him a puzzled smile and claimed another kiss, which went from chaste to hot when Charles opened his lips and slid his tongue past Erik's.

Erik slowed the kiss down. He didn't want this to lead to sex; in their short relationship, he and Charles had had plenty of that. He wanted to know who Charles was outside the bedroom...even if Erik was, at the same time, scared of Charles seeing who he was outside of sex. In bed, during scenes, Erik knew what he was doing, always knew the right thing to say and do - in all other situations he felt slightly out of place, a square peg in a world of round holes. 

Charles gave him a soft, questioning smile as Erik slowly pulled back. "I, uh..." feeling that he owed Charles an explanation, and yet not having any idea how to convey in words the complexity of his thoughts, he fell back on what he knew. "We never had our ‘after’ chat, this afternoon," he said. "Better late than never. Was it completely awkward, to have Emma untying you?” 

“No, actually,” Charles said, thinking back with a smile. “She was completely professional about it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Erik said. “Did you have any other thoughts about the scene?"

Charles blinked. "Oh, um, it was wonderful, you were amazing," he said, and then timidly added, "I'd never been rimmed before--it was, um, unexpected."

"Oh!" Erik's eyes widened. "I--oh. I suppose I was taking more liberties than I would with a client, I didn't think..."

"It's fine," Charles said reassuringly. "I mean, I liked it, um, obviously."

Erik shook his head, a slight frown crossing his features. "I should have asked."

"Well, um...yes, I guess so." Charles looked surprised at the words coming out of his mouth. Before Erik could respond, he swallowed and rushed on. "It's nothing I ever felt opposed to; actually, I fantasized about it quite a bit...both receiving and, um, giving. I suppose I just wanted a little more...build-up." He looked up at Erik with an apologetic smile, his brow creased with anxiety.

Erik nodded, trying to channel his professional persona so he didn't let Charles see how angry he was with himself that he had crossed Charles' boundaries; it hadn't occurred to him that Charles may not want that. "I'm very sorry that I didn't talk to you about what I planned to do in more detail ahead of time," he said carefully, stalling Charles' protestation with a gentle touch on his hand. "May I clarify - you have never rimmed anyone, either, but it's something you are interested in?"

Charles nodded, a blush creeping up his face. "There's not much else I haven't done," he offered, and then blinked. "Well. Maybe it's naive to say that."

Erik couldn't help grinning at that, and he leaned in to kiss Charles gently, lingeringly. "I have to admit I'm looking forward to taking the last of your virginity, then," he said in a rough, low voice to Charles' lips before kissing him again. "Whenever you're ready, that is."

"I don't think you'll have to wait very long," Charles whispered back, pressing the length of his body against Erik and giving his boyfriend a filthy, wet kiss. 

The oven beeped and Charles pulled reluctantly away from Erik's lips to check the oven. Erik felt secretly relieved because he didn't know if he had the energy for a third round of sex within twenty-four hours; he wasn't as young as he used to be. 

"Oh, I had the time wrong," Charles said with a laugh. "We've got a lot longer before dinner. Is there anything you would like to do for thirty minutes?" He licked his lips enticingly. 

"Ahh..." Erik looked at Charles and felt torn. It was clear what Charles wanted but Erik didn't want their relationship to be all about sex...and, there was Erik’s physical stamina to consider. "I noticed, in the other room, you have a chess set," he said. "Do you play?"

Charles gave him a surprised look. "I do, I love chess," he said. "I haven't played since I've moved here. Do you fancy a game?"

Erik nodded. The idea of a structured activity made him feel better, more grounded. "It's been years since I've played, so I may be a little rusty, but I enjoy it very much."

Charles gave him a gentle kiss. "I'll go easy on you," he said after, with a smile. 

**  
Shaw was there, the weight of his body on top of Charles, hot and demanding. Charles tried to kick but his legs were paralyzed - Shaw had done something to him, something that wouldn't let him move, was going to brand him...

"Charles, please, wake-up! You're alright, you're safe!"

Charles jerked awake with a gasp. It wasn't Shaw in bed with him; it was Erik, and he was holding the side of his face.

"Oh god," Charles gasped, the memory of Shaw pressed against him still fresh in his mind. "I thought - you were Shaw, and you wanted to brand me - I mean he did - wait, did I _hit_ you?"

Erik didn't answer, but he stroked Charles' hair out of his face. "It was a nightmare. I'm fine, Charles. Go back to sleep."

Charles lay back down with a sigh and surprisingly went immediately go back to sleep. Erik lay in bed for a moment, remembering all the nightmares he'd had in his life - both after the fire that killed Magda and Anya and after Shaw. He'd never woken up to anyone in his bed with him after a nightmare and he wondered if it was better or worse to wake up with company. 

He still dreamed about Magda, occasionally, but the past few dreams he'd had about her had actually been more bittersweet than anything else - he dreamed they were parked in his old Honda, where they had spent a lot of time together as teenagers just out of high school. He had most of his first sexual experiences in that car, but also hours and hours of conversations with Magda as they talked about the world and what they were going to do and be once they started their life together. 

When Erik would dream about Magda these days they would be in his Honda, sitting side by side in the backseat, her leaning against him, talking somehow about aspects of his current life. He would get this feeling in the dream that there was something he wanted to tell her but he shouldn't, even as she gave him advice about his business and life in general, and then he would finally remember - "Magda! I had a horrible dream - you died in a fire!" And she would smile sadly at him and say, "But I did die, Erik--" and then the dream would dissolve and Erik would wake up and remember everything. 

Those dreams made him ache a little, when he woke, but it was almost like he had a little piece of Magda with him, so in a strange way they made him happy, too.

Charles appeared to be completely asleep but Erik was wide awake, now. He rolled out of bed quietly and went downstairs in Charles' too-big house. The glowing blue clock on the microwave said it was 12:45am. Not late at all by Erik's standards; he usually went to bed around 2am. 

He knew Charles had an early class, so they had gone to bed early because Charles had been yawning by 11pm. Going to bed had entailed plenty of touching and kissing, but fortunately Charles had not pursued more than that. Erik was glad Charles was able to go back to sleep after his nightmare about Shaw. 

That got Erik thinking about Shaw. He'd left Shaw over four years before, and he hadn't really understood his own feelings about the whole situation for years - in fact, he'd shoved most of the memories down and only thought about his time with Shaw in a very detached way until recently. 

Erik put a lot of the blame for the situation he’d gotten himself into on himself; Shaw told him for a half a year that he wouldn't train Erik without giving him a reason other than ‘he didn’t know what he was asking’. So Erik tried domming people on his own, at first just flogging and spanking people in the more public rooms of the Hellfire Club. Erik thought he was good at it, at flogging people exactly as hard as they wanted to be flogged, but he didn't have the natural in-charge demeanor that he felt doms should have; the demeanor that Sebastian Shaw had. It didn't help that Shaw seemed to take special interest in watching Erik attempt to dom people, even though he resisted training Erik for a long time. 

When Sebastian finally, reluctantly, agreed to train him, Erik was braced for the worst, especially when Shaw explained that Erik would need to live as a sub. Erik had used his safeword a few times, in the beginning, until he quickly learned how displeased that made Shaw. And Shaw always made sure people were unable to give a safeword when he thought they would most want to, but it took Erik a humiliatingly long time to figure that out.

Erik shifted uncomfortably. Even after over four years, he was still confused about how he felt, and ashamed that he was confused, and most of all humiliated that he had willingly let Shaw heap more and more abuse on him until Erik had finally realized that Shaw's intention was not to train him as a dom at all, but was something else entirely, something Erik didn't fully grasp. He saw Shaw's utter frustration with him - how Shaw would lose his temper sometimes because he wanted some reaction from Erik that he wasn't getting. After, Shaw would be full of apologies and sweet caresses that made Erik's skin crawl - he'd almost rather have the punishment. 

Erik had finally just walked out one day, the day that Shaw introduced Emma Frost as his newest dom-in-training. Erik had overheard enough of Shaw's "lectures" while he kneeled at Shaw's feet to know that Shaw didn't actually believe any women were doms - he thought dominatrices were "uppity subs." 

So Erik had stood up, unbuckled his collar, and said to Emma, "Can I speak to you a moment?" - As Erik told Emma what she was signing up for, as he heard himself explaining the way she could expect to be treated, the way he had been treated, he realized that he was done with Shaw. 

He hadn't actually seen Emma again for about a year and a half after that, until after he had established his own business. They ran into each other and she asked him about training, and he found himself with an assistant. 

Erik looked into the refrigerator and saw that Charles had some beer - he recalled that he had in fact worked out that day, sort of (he figured beating his knuckles bloody on the punching bag counted), so having a beer was not a violation of his rules. He opened and sipped the beer, and realized that for the first time he could put a finger on what he felt towards Shaw: anger. Shaw was not a dom; he was an abuser and a rapist. 

And if nobody else was going to stop him, Erik felt it was his responsibility to do that. He'd already set the wheels of his plan in motion; since Charles was asleep, now seemed a good time to pursue the second step.

He texted Angel. It was still before 1am; he figured if she worked at the club she would be awake. _**Does Shaw film all his sessions?**_

He had to wait a few minutes for a response. He sat on the couch, patiently sipping his beer, until his phone buzzed. _**Yes.**_

_**Can you get a copy of the footage to me?** _

He only had to wait a few seconds for her response, this time. _**Yes, if you really want to see it.**_

_**Not Charles. I'm referring a new client to Shaw named Cain Marko. I want the footage of that session when it happens.** _

Erik bit his lip while he waited for her response. He had no idea if Angel would be willing to help or not; he wasn't exactly sure what was motivating her, truth be told. 

It was almost ten minutes before he got a response. _**Is this going to help Charles and/or fuck up Shaw?**_

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. _**Ideally, both.**_

_**Awesome. I will let you know when Marko books an appointment.** _

Erik smiled in the dark and finished his beer, finally feeling that he could go to sleep.

**

Charles and Erik fell into a pattern over the next few days. They would spend the night at Charles' house, and when he left for work in the morning Erik would drive to his own place and get ready for his day, then they would meet at Charles' house for dinner. They would play chess in the evenings, and watch some television, and then go to bed. They hadn't done more than kiss and cuddle since Monday afternoon at the studio.

Erik was anxiously awaiting a text from Angel, which had not arrived by Thursday. He had confirmed with Emma that she had referred Marko to Shaw and she said she had. On Thursday night, Erik was so wrapped up in debating whether or not to text Angel again, that he didn't notice Charles was kneeling at his feet.

"Oh, hello," he said in surprise, smiling down at Charles. "Is there something I can do for you?" He was certainly up for it, after three days.

"I was wondering, actually," Charles said, caressing Erik's thighs, "If there something I could for you."

"I'm sure it's nothing I would object to," Erik said with his sexiest smile. 

"No, actually, what I mean...well, so far all of our sex has been, well, what I've wanted. Is there something _you_ want?" Charles was looking at him earnestly. 

Erik's mouth opened and shut. He wasn't sure what the appropriate response was. "Well, I just want to do - what you want to do. I mean, if we're talking BDSM, I can't really tell you what I want; it's about what _you_ want."

Charles gave him a puzzled smile. "But you're the dom. It's about what you want - you're in charge."

Erik pulled Charles up into his lap. "Not really," he said gently. "That's the illusion. But in reality I don't want to do anything to you that I don't know that you want me to. So, honestly...you hold all the cards." Erik nuzzled behind Charles' ear because he had decided that was one of his favorite spots on Charles a few days before. 

Charles made a happy humming sound as he thought about that. "But you wanted me to have your come on my face, that time," he said, after a moment, his voice low. "You like that."

"I shouldn't have done that," Erik said, between kisses down Charles' neck. "I'm not - used to - um, well, I don't even want to tell you how it had been since I'd had received oral sex."

"But it's alright for you to want things," Charles insisted, deliberately wiggling against Erik's growing erection. "I didn't mind, you know."

Erik groaned, even as he started unbuttoning Charles' collared shirt to be able to access more of his delicious neck. "I don't want you to 'not mind', I want you to _want_."

"I want it, though," Charles said seriously, turning to look at Erik, his eyes luminously blue. "I want you to come on my face, Erik," he said in a breathy but earnest voice, licking his lips. 

"Oh, fuck," Erik whispered, the words going straight to his cock because he fucking loved that, even though he also felt guilty, feeling Charles was only saying that because he thought Erik would like it. "You don't want it," he still protested, removing Charles shirt completely and biting at Charles' shoulders, his hands moving more roughly on Charles' back. He felt himself on the precipice, wanting Charles to say that he did...

"Show me you own me," Charles whispered into his ear, hotly, and Erik growled and bit him in the neck.

"Yes," Charles gasped, his head going back, offering more neck flesh to Erik. Erik took the bait, biting and then licking to soothe each bite. 

"Will you spank me?" Charles requested breathlessly.

Erik had Charles over his knee, his head to the left, and was yanking his pants down before he remembered why that might not be a good idea. He froze when he saw a few red marks still on Charles' ass. "I don't--" he started to say.

"Please," Charles said, whining, writhing, moving his body in a way that rubbed him up against Erik's cock. "You've never spanked me with your bare hand, I want to feel that, I promise it's okay, please..."

Erik still hesitated, tracing a few of the red spots with his fingers. "Does that hurt?" he asked. 

"No," Charles said, resolutely, and Erik was too turned on to spend much time analyzing his tone to see if he was telling the truth. 

He twined the fingers of his left hand in Charles' hair and used that to turn Charles head towards him, then gave Charles' ass a light test spank. His buttocks bounced very attractively. 

"More, please," Charles whispered, his eyes open and looking at Erik. He was making a concerted but slightly awkward one-handed effort to push down Erik's sweatpants so he could reach his cock. Erik moved back enough to allow him to reach it and a grunt of appreciation passed his lips when Charles wrapped his hand around Erik's cock. 

Erik spanked Charles again, harder. _Mine,_ he thought, feeling irrationally angry at the few red marks still on Charles' ass.

Charles let out a small sound of pleasure. "More. Please."

Staring at his ass, Erik spanked him again, hard enough to make red marks of his own, to cover up what that other bastard did. "Mine," he growled in a low voice. 

Charles moaned and started stroking Erik's cock with the hand wrapped around it. It was dry and the position was awkward but Erik was focused on Charles' ass anyway. He spanked again, hard strikes, three times in quick succession, breathing hard. "Mine, mine, mine!"

"Yours, yes, oh god, Erik, I'm yours," Charles moaned, writhing jerking Erik's cock faster. 

On a primal level Erik was pleased to see that the temporary red marks from his hand were obscuring the few red marks left from Charles’ wax burns. Erik let go of Charles' hair to push Charles' body up a little bit on his side, still across Erik's lap, still giving Erik access to spank Charles' ass. Charles took advantage of the new position to swing his right arm around so he could put that hand on Erik's cock - but not before he licked his palm in an utterly debauched way, holding Erik’s gaze the whole time. 

"I have a use for that mouth as well," Erik said, bringing two fingers of his right hand across his body to Charles' mouth - the real reason he'd rolled Charles up on his hip. Charles sucked them in eagerly and Erik's cock jumped at the sight of those red lips and tongue wetting Erik's index and middle fingers. 

"Do you want me to finger you?" Erik asked, stroking his left hand through Charles' hair and tugging lightly, watching Charles suck on his fingers. He wanted to just do it, but after their conversation about rimming earlier, he didn’t want to do anything that was unwelcome.

Charles nodded, letting Erik's fingers slip out of his mouth with a slurp. "Can you still spank me?"

Erik couldn't help chuckling. "You _are_ a bossy sub, you know," he said in a low, gravelly voice as he used his left hand to roll Charles face-down again - or as much as he could, which was about half-way so that Charles was at about a 45-degree angle, since Charles' now had both hands on Erik's cock and he didn’t seem to be inclined to let go. Erik gently stroked Charles’ already-red ass with his left hand for a moment before he spanked. Charles made a happy sound, his eyes closed. 

Erik stroked the wet fingers of his right hand over Charles' hole as Charles canted his hips to allow easier entry - but instead of entering, he swatted Charles' ass twice with his left hand, watching Charles' face. Charles’ face contorted into what Erik was beginning to recognize as the face that meant Erik was doing something right.

“I’m a bossy sub?” Charles gasped, belatedly, his blue eyes now open and glazed with desire. 

“I like bossy,” Erik said, with a grin. “As long as you know you are mine.” He spanked Charles two more times on his ass with his left hand, medium-hard, while he simultaneously pushed a fingertip into Charles’ ass up to his first knuckle. 

Charles eyes closed again in pleasure as his mouth fell open, his brow knitted. Erik kept up spanking Charles with his left hand as he pushed first the rest of his right index finger and then his middle finger into Charles. Charles hands both remained on Erik’s cock, awkwardly but not completely ineffectively stroking him. 

Erik paused his spanking to seek out Charles’ prostate, curling his fingers towards himself and slightly down until he found it. He felt the spongy texture and rubbed it gently, and smiled when Charles snapped his eyes open with a gasp. 

“Jesus christ,” Charles gasped. “That felt - oh my god, can you do that again?”

“Bossy, bossy,” Erik chuckled but obligingly curled his fingers again. 

Charles made a very high-pitched sound and let go of Erik’s cock to reach for his own.

“Mine,” said Erik firmly, pushing Charles’ hand away. He spit in his left hand and gripped Charles’ cock, starting to stroke slowly as he pressed gently but rhythmically against Charles’ prostate inside him. 

“Oh fuck,” Charles moaned, “Jesus Christ, how--”

Erik never learned the rest of Charles’ question, because instead Charles came with a loud groan - almost a yell, really - into Erik’s hand. 

Erik looked at the semen in his hand and he knew what he wanted, but he didn’t know if Charles wanted it. Still…

“How dirty are you, Charles?” Erik asked in a guttural voice as he contemplated that Charles would probably do what he asked. His cock was so hard it ached. 

“‘m very dirty,” Charles breathed, his eyes half-open, still breathing heavily from his orgasm. 

“Are you dirty enough to lick your come from my hand?”

Charles’s eyes fluttered as they met Erik’s. He licked his lips and nodded. 

Erik brought his left hand to Charles’ face as he gripped his own cock with his right hand and started pumping. He groaned when Charles coyly made a show of it, dipping his tongue into the drops of semen with tiny, sexy licks, then broader, longer strokes. He licked up and down each finger, his eyes flashing briefly to Erik’s to see how raptly Erik was watching him before he closes his eyes again and sucked all four of Erik’s fingers into his mouth. 

Erik could not tear his eyes away. This was the pinnacle of hot for him - the thing he could not do at work, could never do, the thing he had never done with any casual sex partners due to safety concerns...the thing he had been too shy to ask Magda about even after they’d started to youthfully experiment with bondage. 

“I’m close,” he gasped, and he remembered what they talked about, what Charles had said earlier, but he had already been so generous…

Charles quickly slid off Erik’s lap and onto his knees between Erik’s legs. “Come on my face,” he whispered. “Mark me. Own me.”

Erik let out a strangled cry as he did what Charles said. Most of it actually landed in Charles’ open mouth, but two ropy strands shot up onto each cheek, almost symmetrically. 

Charles held perfectly still for a moment while Erik just panted, finding the view unbearably hot and while he also felt ashamed that Charles probably hated this. 

“May I swallow your come, sir?” Charles asked, his eyes closed, kneeling, the perfect submissive. 

“Yes,” Erik breathed, watching as Charles scooped the semen towards his mouth with a finger and then sucked it off that finger. He then repeated the action on his other cheek. By the time he had finished, Erik’s breathing had mostly returned to normal, and Charles was giving him a big grin. 

Charles lay his head on Erik’s thigh and looked up at him with a contented sigh. “Two loads of come,” he said musingly, still grinning. “That’s supposed to be what, one hundred and fifty calories?”

Erik’s eyes opened in horror and he felt his gorge rise. “No, no, no,” he said, leaning to the side. He wanted to put his face in his hands but they were both dirty. “No, oh god, no.”

Charles’ eyes were wide with alarm. “Erik, what?”

“He didn’t - he used to - “ Erik could not complete his thought as the memory hit him - the time he told Shaw matter-of-factly, (not complaining, never complaining) that coming down Erik’s throat twice a day simply did not provide enough calories...and how Shaw had arranged a party…

Erik put the back of his right fist against his mouth, trying to fight the memories - the huge clear funnel that held his mouth open, the men laughing at him as he choked and had no choice except to swallow, _so much come…_

Erik vaulted over Charles’ couch and made it to the kitchen sink before he vomited. 

It suddenly connected for Erik - why he felt so guilty about wanting to see his come on Charles, why he felt guilty about Charles eating his come...because of how much Erik didn’t want to do that. It had not been something he minded until Shaw...but he hadn’t really connected what he liked seeing Charles do and what Shaw had done to him in his mind until Charles said what he did about calories. 

Erik washed his hands and then his mouth with some water from the sink as he ran the water to make the evidence of his nausea disappear. He heard Charles’ footsteps and then felt Charles’ hand on his back, not questioning or pushing, just offering support.

“We’re never doing that again,” Erik said finally, turning around to face Charles.

Charles gave him an alarmed look. “We’re not? Which part?”

“You--swallowing my come. You don’t have to do that.”

Charles gave him a puzzled look. “Okay...if it bothers you, I won’t, but honestly I like swallowing your come. I liked licking my come from your hand. And unless I’m completely blind, you liked it too. So who exactly is being hurt?”

Charles’ words were hard for Erik to hear - both arousing and horrifying at the same time. “But you don’t like it,” Erik said with a frown. “In my apartment--”

“In your apartment, that was come sitting on my face, kind of slimy, and it gets stiff when it dries...and that’s really my only objection, Erik. I like how it turns you on. You are always so focused on what gets me off - which I love, by the way, don’t ever change - but I like seeing you get off, too, you know.”

Erik swallowed. He wanted to ask a question he knew he shouldn’t ask. “Shaw - last weekend - he didn’t…?”

Charles’ face went through several emotions before he spoke. “Are you asking me if I swallowed Shaw’s come?”

Erik hated himself for asking, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny it. He could feel his face constricting as he fought to control his reaction. 

Charles breathed out slowly and swallowed. “I might have,” he said finally, sounding miserable. “My memory of some things is - hazy. I definitely lost touch with reality a couple times...I might have been drugged. I’m sorry, Erik, I don’t know.”

Erik let out a jagged sigh of relief that at least Charles hadn’t been put through what Erik had been put through. He reached out and pulled Charles into a tight hug. He felt that since Charles had been honest with him, answering a question that Erik had no right to ask, that he owed Charles an explanation for his freak-out. He tried to figure out how to say it in the least upsetting way possible. “What you said about calories…” No, that was a bad start. “Do you know what [bukkake](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bukkake) is?”

“Yes,” Charles said cautiously, adding quickly, “But it’s not something I’m interested in doing.” The implication hit Charles almost immediately. “You--Shaw? Oh, god, no.”

Erik was happy that was all he had to say about it when Charles said, “But what does that have to do with calories?”

Erik closed his eyes and shook his head. He could not say that part. He’d said enough. 

He couldn’t even bear to look at Charles for a few minutes, even when Charles pulled Erik into his arms. 

It was a few minutes before Charles said, in a soft but steely voice, “I want to fucking kill Sebastian Shaw.”

**

They ordered take-out for dinner that night, Chinese food. As they ate, Charles said, “I was kind of serious, you know, earlier. Well, I wouldn’t kill anyone, but...Shaw needs to face consequences for his actions.”

Cautiously, Erik said, “I have an idea about that.”

Erik’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and saw was slightly disappointed to see that it was Logan - he still hadn’t heard from Angel. Nevertheless, he answered. “Hi, Logan.”

“Erik, hey.” He was obviously in a club environment, probably the Hellfire Club, as it was really the only bondage club worth going to in Manhattan. “Are you with Charles?”

Erik covered the mouthpiece of the phone “Excuse me,” he said to Charles, while he walked a few rooms away. There were benefits to a big home, after all. “I’ll be with him soon,” he told Logan evasively. “What’s going on?”

“They’ve been playing this video all night here of him and Shaw doing a scene. Looks consensual, but still, I thought he should know.”

Erik was silent a minute. He’d been expecting something like this, of course, but it still infuriated him. He’d been thinking Shaw might contact him or Charles directly, but of course Shaw chose the most painful way to do anything - he had to know that by showing the video at the Hellfire Club the message would get back to Erik. “Thank you, Logan,” he said when he had his voice under control and disconnected the call. 

“What was that about?” Charles looked alert. 

“Um, Logan wanted us to, uh, come out to the club,” Erik said, afraid for a split second that Charles would want to go out, but Charles made a face. 

“If I never go there again it will be too soon,” he said emphatically.

**

That Friday afternoon Charles and Erik had just settled down to watch a movie on Netflix when there was a knock on the door. Charles and Erik looked at each other because they weren’t expecting anyone. They went to answer the door together and were both surprised to see Angel there, with Charles’ luggage. 

_She was supposed to call,_ Erik thought, not pleased with the change in circumstances. He had wanted more control over how this played out.

“Your, uh, address was in your luggage,” she said, almost apologetically, at the expression on his face. “I thought I would just drop this off. I also have the video you wanted,” she said to Erik while Charles looked anxiously for other people behind her, but she seemed to be alone. 

“The video?” Charles said in confusion. 

“Not the one of you,” she said reassuringly. “The one with that Piggy guy.”

“The one of me?” Charles asked. Angel looked at Erik, and then Charles looked at Erik too. 

“Thank you, Angel,” Erik said, taking the luggage and USB thumb drive from her. “Are you going to quit working for Shaw?”

Angel sighed. “I want to. I have to. I just have to find another job first.”

“What video of me?” Charles repeated to Erik, slower, his eyes narrowing.

“Good luck,” Erik said quickly and closed the door. He faced Charles and took a deep breath. “Angel brought me a video of Piggy,” Erik said before Charles could talk, even though his words came out haltingly and awkward. “I mean, Cain. I referred him to Shaw - and Shaw tapes - well, Angel said she could get a video of that session, apparently. I thought - I know what Pi--Cain likes, and I know Shaw...I would bet good money there’s something on that tape that is against the law.”

“But there’s a video of me,” Charles said slowly, looking down and from side to side, as his mind worked it out. “Doing - well. I suppose I can work that out. But Angel told you, and you didn’t tell me.” He looked up at Erik, hurt in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m going to take care of it,” Erik said stiffly. He knew that was no excuse, but he didn’t have a good excuse. 

Charles was frowning at him, not a cute frown. The volume of his voice rose steadily as he spoke to Erik. “You can’t keep that kind of thing from me, Erik. My job at the college has an ‘upstanding-character’ clause. I could lose my entire career over something like this. This is not the kind of thing that you can decide not to tell me!” Charles’ face was red with anger, his lips pressed together. 

“I told you, I am going to take care of it!” Erik yelled right back, before quieting down a bit. “There was no need for you to know.”

“You don’t get to make that kind of decision for me, Erik. Despite what I may tell you when we’re fucking, you do _not_ own me. You don’t take care of me. I take care of myself, I always have, and I don’t need anyone else to do that!”

Erik gritted his teeth because he knew Charles was right, and yet it hurt to hear that he was not needed. It hurt worse that he’d fucked this up, even though he supposed he’d known he would. He was not fit for human consumption. Charles was too good for him - gorgeous, kind, sexually adventurous, jesus, even rich...of course he didn’t need Erik. 

But he he could fix it, and he owed Charles that much - Charles would never have gone to the Hellfire Club, would never have met Sebastian Shaw, if it hadn’t been for Erik. 

After he had been staring at Charles for what felt like an eternity but was actually probably only a minute, Erik turned around and left without saying another word, the USB thumb drive that Angel had given him clutched in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaw's POV only lasts 1500 words or so, it's not the whole chapter. Also, lots of semen in this chapter. This isn't everyone's thing, so I'm warning you. Also graphic descriptions of past abuse having to do with semen. Semen semen semen. 
> 
> In other news, sorry about the cliffhanger! But the last chapter is mostly written and I expect to post it tomorrow :)


	10. The Nuclear Option

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Last Chapter: The Nuclear Option! Thanks for reading! This is the kinkiest thing I've ever written and I'm well aware it may go too far for some of you to enjoy, so if you think you might be in that position, please check the end notes.
> 
> I may add more to this verse, but if I do it will likely be straight-up smut. :)
> 
> (Content warning and major spoiler in end notes.)

Erik got in his car and drove only a few blocks away from Charles’ house when he pulled over to make a phone call. He already had three missed calls and three text messages - he didn’t check them; he knew they were from Charles and he needed to focus on what he had to do. Then he would explain to Charles...he’d rather ask forgiveness than permission.

He pulled out the card that MacTaggert had given him the week before and called the mobile number on there. She answered quickly. “MacTaggert.”

“This is Erik Lehnsherr. You, ah, wanted me to let you know if I had anything on Sebastian Shaw, and I do. I have a video of him with a client on a USB thumb drive. Can I meet you somewhere?”

MacTaggert was only silent for a split second before she spoke again. “Come to the precinct.”

Erik hung up and drove there.

**

Erik watched as MacTaggert put the USB stick into the port on the computer on her desk and a sudden ugly fear crossed his mind - what if this was a video of something else entirely? He still didn’t fully trust Angel. Erik could be on this video, for all he knew; he was positive Shaw had videos of him. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when the video started playing and Piggy--Cain--was there on his knees. Shaw was standing over him, shirtless and wearing black leather pants, but because of the angle of the camera his head was not visible.

MacTaggert looked at him sharply. “That looks like you.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Why would I bring you a video of me? Shaw and I have similar builds. And you try and find a dom who doesn’t have a pair of black leather pants.”

Her lip quirked like she might have found what he said slightly amusing. But she said, “Still, if we can’t ID him--” just then, Shaw stepped into the frame so his head and face were clearly visible. “Oh, okay.”

They both watched the video tensely. It was par for the course for Erik; Cain was naked and oinking, as Shaw threw bits of mud at him. Erik was actually kind of impressed with Shaw’s innovation when Shaw put his dirty gloved fingers into Cain’s mouth and told him to lick them off; Cain certainly seemed to like it. 

“This is disgusting,” MacTaggert said next to him, holding her hand up to her mouth. “Okay, I see oral penetration with fingers...but how that can be sexually gratifying for anyone…” she shuddered. 

Erik shrugged. “At least Marko isn’t hurting anyone. Unlike Shaw.”

MacTaggert looked at Erik sharply. “Exactly what is on the rest of this video?”

“I don’t know,” Erik said honestly. “I figured at least you could get Shaw for prostitution, but as I told you, he is known to violate boundaries...but he also doesn’t like to lose clients.”

“You know the, uh, client?” MacTaggert asked, pen poised. 

“Cain Marko,” Erik said absentmindedly, watching the video again. MacTaggert made a note of that while on the video Shaw was putting an apple-shaped ball gag into Piggy’s mouth. 

“So far, I’ve only seen oral penetration with fingers, and it’s a stretch to call that an act of sexual gratification on the best of days. I also haven’t seen any money being exchanged. I don’t know that this helps me at all, Erik.”

Erik ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Usually they pay at the end, and there may be something else. We should keep watching.”

Moira gave him an annoyed look and sped up the video, watching the fast-moving bodies on the screen with an expression of disgust. When she saw Shaw put on a strap-on, she slowed the video down. 

“Okay, looks like we going to have more penetration…” They watched as Shaw got on his knees while lubing up the dildo and then pushed it inside Cain, a hand on either one of Cain’s hips. Cain tensed and his head snapped to the side and he tried to say something, but Shaw said something to him that made him relax. MacTaggert frowned and leaned forward, rewinding that section. She turned the sound up a little louder and she and Erik both watched the moment again carefully.

MacTaggert’s brow was creased in thought. She looked at Erik. “What do you think just happened there?”

Erik thought that Piggy had felt himself being entered, had felt hands on his hips, and immediately assumed it was Shaw’s cock, so he said his safeword through the apple-shaped ball gag. But when he turned his head to look, Shaw assured him that it was a dildo, and Cain could see that to be true, and relaxed. But Erik’s guess was an educated one because he knew that Piggy wanted to be pegged and that he did not want to be fucked with a cock - even though it was apparently his hottest fantasy. (Erik had never simulated sex with him, not with a strap-on - the work-around that Piggy had found acceptable was that Erik would order Piggy to back himself onto a dildo.)

Erik was aware that what people fantasized about was not what they actually wanted to do, although he knew Shaw felt differently about that philosophy. He had been thinking Shaw might fuck Cain when Cain got close to orgasm, because Cain would yell out that he wanted to be fucked in the ass - but quite probably Shaw was no more attracted to Cain than Erik was. 

MacTaggert was still looking at Erik, waiting for a response. “I don’t know,” he said. “What do you think happened?”

She pursed her lips. “I think Pig-man, uh, Mr. Marko, said his safeword and then changed his mind for some reason.”

“So...is that rape, or not?” Erik really didn’t know, but by the look on MacTaggert’s face, she didn’t know either. 

“If the victim says he was raped, and with a video like this, I could get a conviction, maybe. But if there’s video of money changing hands...well, that doesn’t necessarily preclude rape, but...hmm.” She pondered, tapping a pen against her lip, then looked at Erik. “What do you know about Marko?”

“Um, he’s kind of gross?” Erik said without thinking. 

MacTaggert laughed, an oddly incongruous reaction for her. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Erik tried to think about what Charles had said about his step-brother. “Well, I believe he’s an attorney.”

MacTaggert stared at Erik for a full ten seconds before she snorted and looked away. “Thanks for wasting my time, Erik.”

Erik started to get annoyed. “Hey, you said if I had anything on Shaw, to bring it to you,” he said, his voice rising in volume. “He’s careful, but he’s - he’s a rapist and an abuser, Mac--Moira. Can you do _anything_?” Erik didn’t like the note of desperation in his voice, but he needed Shaw to pay for what he had done. 

Moira looked at him, and compassion crossed her features. “Erik, did Shaw rape you?”

“No,” Erik said firmly after probably too long a wait. He stared Moira in the eye, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. 

She sat back after a moment, shaking her head, clearly not believing him. Her posture screaming defeat. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Erik left the precinct feeling miserable. He had hoped that Shaw would be arrested for rape without himself or Charles having to testify against him...especially since Shaw’s methods made proving rape so hard that Charles still didn’t even believe he had been raped. Erik had another potential way to stop Shaw from blackmailing Charles, which he’d been thinking of as the ‘nuclear option’ in his head...but he hadn’t started with it for a reason; he didn’t know if Charles would be able to accept it. 

But Charles’ career was on the line...

Erik checked the time. Shaw always went home for a few hours in the late afternoon before he went back to the club for the evening, and he should have just arrived at his house if he kept the same schedule that he always had. Feeling like he had no other options, Erik drove to Shaw’s house.

**

Shaw opened the door himself. “Erik! It’s...wow, it’s really good to see you.” He sounded so sincerely compassionate that Erik wanted to punch him. He could, too, he could just punch Shaw…

But that would be worse for what Erik was trying to do. “May I come in?” he asked, his eyes down, the way Shaw liked.

“Of course, my boy,” Shaw said. He put a hand on Erik’s back and Erik flinched away from the touch without consciously thinking about it. “Would you like a drink?”

No, he didn’t want a drink, not knowing how drugging drinks was practically a habit for Shaw. Once inside, Erik saw Shaw’s house subs. He recognized two of them, but the blond woman was new. “Adding to your collection?” 

“Always,” said Shaw softly, looking Erik up and down. “Slut was too beautiful to resist, wouldn’t you agree?”

Erik didn’t respond, looking at the naked, kneeling woman. She was thinner than Erik was comfortable with, knowing how Shaw was. His heart started to pound as memories started to rush back and he forced himself to breathe evenly. 

“You have at least one video of Charles,” Erik said, cutting to the chase, forcing himself to look Shaw in the eye. “I want all videos you have of him destroyed.”

Shaw smiled, a smile that looked far too genuine and caring for Erik’s comfort. “I’m sure you do,” he said. He lowered his voice and stepped closer to the other man. “Tell me, Erik - are you really happy with him?”

“Yes,” Erik said without hesitation...even though the thought crossed his mind immediately after that Charles may not want him any more after Erik did what he had to do...but he was determined to make it right. 

“What do you want?” He asked Shaw, point-blank. “To destroy all videos of Charles. You can keep videos of me; I’m sure you have them and I don’t care.”

Shaw just looked at him, the pleasant expression on his face twisting to something uglier. “I do have videos of you, Erik,” he whispered. “The ‘first-time’ videos are my favorite. The first time you sucked my cock. The first time I fucked you in the ass.”

“The first time you made me vomit?” Erik asked, expressionlessly. “Do you get off on watching that, Sebastian?”

Shaw’s face contorted. “Dammit, Erik!” He hissed. “I was just trying to get through to you. You’re not a dom, you were never a dom, and I could be so good to you if you’d let me...you’d never have to worry about anything but pleasing me ever again.” Shaw reached out a hand to touch his face but Erik jerked away and looked at Shaw incredulously.

“Is that what you’re after?” Erik said, sure that his face reflected his horror. Erik looked at Shaw’s house subs. “You want me to be one of them, a pet?” Erik gestured towards Shaw’s house subs, three in a row, naked and kneeling, their heads bowed. Obedient. 

Shaw’s face had a expression on it that Erik couldn’t decipher. “You would love it, Erik. No more worrying about your dead wife, or getting enough customers, or having to be in control. Hand _me_ the reigns, my boy; I know what you need.”

Erik’s anger rose. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ talk about my wife!” he screamed. He brought the volume of his voice down to a hiss. “You are fucking insane if you think I would ever want to be your house sub. You disgust me. You are the worst dom--hell, the worst human being I’ve ever met and I want you _out of my fucking life_ and I want you out of Charles’ life!”

Erik didn’t really think that would anger Shaw. He thought Shaw would be pleased to see Erik lose his temper - he had always wanted some kind of reaction out of Erik. But to Erik’s surprise and gratification, Shaw did get angry. 

“You worthless piece of--” Shaw brought himself under control with an effort. “One session, Erik. You wanted to know what it would take? One session. I _know_ you want this. I know you crave to be dominated by a strong master and _I will fucking prove it to you!_ ” By the end of the sentence, Shaw was red-faced, spittle flying out of his mouth. 

“One session,” Erik said carefully. “And you will destroy the tapes of Charles, all tapes, all copies...regardless of whether or not the outcome of that session is what you think it will be?”

Shaw was still angry, pacing now, back and forth in front of Erik. “Oh, I will get the result I want, Erik. You will _cry_ and _beg_ me to come home with me. I’m going to pull out all the stops. This won’t be just a session with me; oh, no.” He had stopped and was watching Erik’s face carefully, a cruel smile starting to curl his mouth up. “I want you in the mush pot, my boy, in the back room. I want to let my sickest, most depraved doms do to you whatever they want to you until you cry to me to take you home with me.”

Erik felt his stomach turn but he forced himself not to react emotionally. “There have to be some limits. I don’t want permanent damage; I don’t want to have to go to the hospital.”

Shaw lips curled into an unpleasant smirk. “That will be two hours then,” he said softly. “No safeword, Erik. The only way it stops before the time is up is if you beg to come home with me.”

Erik stared at the floor for a moment, thinking. “I’ll need Victor and Logan there.”

Shaw smiled. “What, not your precious Charles?”

Erik suppressed a shudder. No, he didn’t want Charles there.

“--and they will take me at the end.”

“Unless you beg me to go home with me,” Shaw whispered, unpleasantly close to Erik. Erik could smell his breath and he tried not to feel nauseas. But Shaw wouldn’t agree without that.

“Unless I beg you to go home with you,” Erik agreed, his eyes down. 

Shaw smiled widely. “Shall we put it in writing, then? Can’t have you crying rape, later.”

“Of course,” Erik said. He tried not to think about what Charles would think of his plan. “It has to be tonight,” he said suddenly. “And you have to make sure your lackeys know what the limits are.”

Shaw rolled his eyes. “What a baby,” he said. “Nothing permanent, no hospitals. That does leave quite a lot of options still, I hope you know.”

**

Erik signed the contract but did not take a copy of it with him. When he was several blocks away from Shaw’s house, he pulled over and called Logan.

“Hey, Logan. I need to ask a favor of you.”

Erik explained what he needed, and he wasn’t surprised to hear that Logan wasn’t completely sanguine about the plan. 

“I know, I know,” Erik said, putting his head against the steering wheel. Logan _had_ to agree. “This is my nuclear option. I need you, Logan. I know I haven’t been the best friend to you--”

Logan cut him off. “Stop right there,” he said. “I’m not--I mean, I’ll help. It’s just - this isn’t like you.”

“I know,” Erik said glumly. “Thank you, Logan, thank you. I need to call Victor now.”

“Well, uh, he’s actually, um, here. We’ve been, uh, hangin’ out.”

Erik’s eyebrows rose. No doubt Victor had been extremely interested in Logan’s knife-gloves with his bloodplay kink, but…

“Anne-Marie knows, about Victor, I mean,” Logan added hastily. He chuckled a little. “It was actually kinda her idea.”

Erik had been more thinking of Victor’s supposed boyfriend - he knew how open Anne-Marie and Logan could be - but it wasn’t his place to worry about that. “Okay,” he said neutrally. “May I speak with him?”

“No need. He heard and he says he’s onboard. Anne-Marie’s not coming, though.”

Erik didn’t blame her. “Great, that is very good,” Erik said, nodding. He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ll see both you soon then. I have to run some errands right now and, uh, prepare.”

“Ok man,” Logan said, his voice carefully neutral. “See you soon.”

Erik continued to his next stop: the [Pleasure Chest.](http://thepleasurechest.com/nyhours.htm)

**

Logan and Victor met Erik behind the Hellfire Club in the alley near the back entrance at around 7:00pm, as it was almost completely dark by then. They were early - Erik had arranged for a 9pm start time with Shaw - but he wanted to make sure Logan and Victor understood their responsibilities. All three of them were wearing black. Erik’s car was parked nearby, in the same spot he had parked the first time he’d collected Charles from the Hellfire Club; the parking spot was technically illegal but it was in an isolated alcove and parking enforcement had never come back here to Erik’s knowledge.

Erik was nervous as hell, and he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He paced as they waited for Shaw to arrive. “I assume Shaw has explained the limits to his friends, but I need you both to pay attention and enforce those if someone goes too far.”

“You’re not _my_ dom,” Logan growled. “And I know that. We both know that. Relax; nobody is going to the hospital tonight.”

Headlights appeared in the alley and all three men stepped back into the shadows as the car parked in the tiny parking lot nearby. Shaw walked up to the backdoor of the Hellfire Club, whistling, not giving any indication that he saw any of the men in the shadows next to him. 

“Hi, Sebastian,” Erik said, walking around behind the man to the other side. Shaw turned to face Erik with a jolt and didn’t notice Victor and Logan coming up behind him to grab his arms and hold him still. Victor brought a white cloth doused in chloroform to Shaw’s face and Erik watched Shaw’s eyes widen in horror as he realized what was happening. For the first time since he had conceived of the plan, Erik didn’t feel conflicted or in doubt. He felt vengeful. _You deserve it, motherfucker,_ he thought, smiling, as Shaw’s eyes rolled up towards the back of his head. 

The three men quickly moved Shaw’s body to the trunk of Erik’s car, where they stripped the unconscious man efficiently. Erik upended the bag of toys and fetish attire he had acquired that afternoon to reveal a long black trenchcoat, the small brown bottle of chloroform, a gimp mask, a rachet gag, a black grease pencil, a black leather collar, and a clear plastic funnel. He quickly scooped up the collar and put it in his pocket. 

He put the [gimp mask](http://i01.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v0/32262219805/2015-New-Fashion-Black-Latex-Hood-Rubber-Fetish-font-b-Mask-b-font-With-Open-Mouth.jpg) on Shaw first. It had a large mouth hole but Erik had to cut two small nostril holes - he assumed that Shaw’s mouth would be occupied for much of the next two hours and he didn’t want death by asphyxiation on his hands, even if it was Shaw. 

Next, he put the [ratchet gag](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51OOHqumKBL._SX450_.jpg) in Shaw’s mouth, ratcheting it open to a point that had to be uncomfortable once Shaw was conscious, his mouth gaping wide, forced open. Erik didn’t feel bad about making Shaw feel uncomfortable, but it was more important that Shaw was not able to articulate words. 

Shaw started to stir and Erik guiltlessly shoved the chloroformed cloth under his nose until he was limp again. 

Victor and Logan and Erik eyed the naked man wearing a gimp mask critically. “He looks enough like you,” Victor said thoughtfully. “In the dark, it should be fine.”

“Your’s cock’s bigger,” Logan said with a frown. 

“Not many people have seen my cock,” Erik replied absentmindedly. Logan only had once, to his knowledge, years before at a party when Anne-Marie had asked Erik if she could order Logan to suck his cock. Erik was too good a friend not to oblige the request.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing it,” Victor said, giving Erik an appraising look. 

Erik just smirked and held his hands up. “I don’t know Charles well enough yet to know if he shares.” _Or if he will still want me after this,_ Erik’s conscience whispered. “But I can promise you free sessions for life.”

Victor grinned broadly. “Well I’m not saying no to that! Especially if Logan can come sometimes.”

While Logan and Victor made googly eyes at each other, Erik’s phone rang again. He thought it would be Charles, because the man had already called him about twenty times that day - Erik hadn’t answered a single call, he couldn’t, not yet - but it was Moira MacTaggert. Erik didn’t answer, but he got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He slipped inside the back door of the Hellfire Club. It was almost 8pm, and the evening hardcore BDSM crowd was starting to arrive. 

“Hey, Erik,” someone called and Erik turned to see Azazel grinning at him smugly. “The first thing I’m gonna do is punch you in the face. Then I’m gonna make you swallow my piss.”

“Looking forward to it,” Erik said dryly, headed for the front of the club. He stepped back quickly when he saw Moira MacTaggert and two uniformed officers at the door talking to Angel. 

“...Usually here by now,” Angel was saying as Erik walked up. 

“Are you looking for Shaw?” Erik said. 

MacTaggert looked at him in surprise. “Oh! You’re here.”

“Well, it’s a bondage club, I’m a dom,” Erik said calmly, hoping his pounding heart wasn’t obvious.

MacTaggert pulled him away from the other two officers. “I talked to Marco. When he heard I was going to prosecute him for patronizing a prostitute and suggested it looked like it might have been non-consensual, he cried rape,” she said in a low voice. “We’re here to arrest Shaw.”

“Oh, yeah, well I heard some talk in the club today that he was going to his house in the Hamptons for a weekend bondage retreat,” Erik lied. “He does those occasionally.”

Moira frowned. “I’m not surprised,” she said tightly. “You don’t want to know what happened when we went to his house.”

Erik did kind of want to know how the cops reacted to Shaw’s three naked subs - and how the subs reacted to the cops - but he was gladder than Moira seemed to take him at his word about the Hamptons. 

She looked at the time on her cell phone with a sigh. “That’s about a three-hour drive. I won’t get home tonight in time to watch Jimmy Kimmel.” She looked at Erik and sighed again. “You don’t happen to know the address to that house, do you?”

“Angel has it,” Erik said, before remembering that he wasn’t completely sure still if he could trust Angel. 

He watched as MacTaggert went to Angel and spoke to Angel briefly. She looked puzzled, but said something that satisfied them and all three cops left. Erik approached Angel immediately after. 

“Shaw only goes to the Hamptons like once every three months,” Angel said to Erik in confusion. “Why would he go two weekends in a row? Why wouldn’t he have told me?”

“He’s a mysterious guy,” Erik said vaguely. “Hey, um, Angel, Shaw didn’t tell you what’s going on here tonight, did he?”

She shook her head. “He noticed Charles’ luggage was missing earlier, actually. I think he’s starting not to trust me.”

Erik rubbed his forehead and made a tough decision. “Whatever happens tonight, to me - don’t interfere, okay?”

She gave him a wide-eyed look. “Why? What’s? going to happen to you?”

“Nothing,” he said honestly. “But please - just - let it be.”

Angel threw her hands up. “Nobody tells me anything. Fine, okay, whatever.”

Erik walked quickly through the club and out the back door to his car. When he got back there and rounded his car to the trunk side, he saw that Shaw was lying facedown in the trunk and Logan and Victor had written ‘Nothing permanent’ and ‘No hospital’ on his back. 

“Thought it couldn’t hurt to have a reminder,” Logan said. 

Erik looked at Shaw and thought they didn’t need to go overboard with kindness here, either. He took the grease pencil and wrote ‘No safeword’ on Shaw’s chest.

Shaw started to stir again. “It’s almost nine,” Erik, looking at his watch. “Maybe you guys should walk him inside before he starts to thrash too much.”

They pulled Shaw out of the trunk and put the black trenchcoat on him. He was making sounds, but wasn’t really able to hold his head up. He was barely able to walk if Victor and Logan held him up. 

“Perfection,” Erik said darkly. “Don’t forget the funnel. Azazel will know what to do with it.” 

Logan and Victor traded looks. 

Erik slapped Shaw lightly on the cheek and Shaw jerked at the motion. “Have fun, Sebastian.” He looked up at Logan. “I’ll meet you back here at 11pm. Text or call me if there are any problems.”

“Yes, sir,” Logan said. Erik could see he was still uncomfortable with what was going to happen - Shaw hadn’t consented, and he was about to be brutally raped; one could argue that that he had planned to do the same to someone else, but of course that someone else (Erik) had consented in writing. 

Victor hadn’t required nearly so much persuasion. Erik wondered if he had a bone of his own to pick with Shaw.

Erik took a deep breath and prepared to face Charles. 

**

Erik walked in the front door of Charles’ house around 9:30pm. “Charles?”

Charles rushed to the foyer. “Erik!” His eyes were red-rimmed and his nose red from crying. “Angel called me and said - oh my god, I was about to go to the club! You got out, thank god, you got out!” Charles hugged Erik fiercely, still crying.

“There was nothing to get out of,” Erik said gently to Charles’ hair, cursing Angel. He should have told her not to call Charles - if she would have even listened. “Angel was mistaken.”

Charles hugged Erik so tight for a moment he almost couldn’t breathe, before he pulled back and searched Erik’s face with confused eyes. “She was? I was so afraid that...but...why did you leave, earlier? Why didn’t you answer my calls? I didn’t mean what I said, I was upset, and I love you, and why did you leave??”

Erik took Charles into his arms again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into Charles’ hair. “I’m so sorry that I scared you, Charles. I took care of it. Shaw is paying for his crimes as we speak, and then he’s going to prison.”

Charles pulled back, confused. “He’s paying for his crimes and _then_ he’s going to prison?”

Erik took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Let’s sit down and I will explain.” Erik sat down on the sofa heavily. It had been a long day. He gathered Charles into his arms and just enjoyed the weight and scent of him for a moment. “I gave the video of Shaw and your stepbrother to the police, and to make a long story short, Shaw is going to be arrested for rape.”

Charles gasped. “He raped Cain?”

“Well, the video was not conclusive evidence of that, but according to the cops Cain claimed he was raped when he was accused of paying for sex.”

Charles made a disgusted sound. “That sounds exactly like him.”

Erik inhaled to explain the harder part. “After I went to the cops, I went to Shaw’s house and talked to him.”

Charles stiffened against Erik as Erik continued. “I asked him what he wanted in order to destroy any and all tapes of you.”

“Erik--”

Erik held Charles closer and did not allow himself to be interrupted. “He said he wanted one last session dominating me. In the mush pot.”

“No!” Charles pulled his body away and turned his face to Erik, his eyes welling with tears. “No, Erik, you can’t--”

Erik looked Charles in the eye, his own face reflecting the pain he felt at hurting Charles even for a moment. “I’m not,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to Charles red-bitten lips. “I won’t, Charles. That was never my plan.”

“Okay,” Charles said, nodding, still breathing heavily and wiping away tears. “That was what he wanted. And what did you agree to?”

“Well, I agreed to that,” Erik said softly, his eyes searching Charles’ face. “But there was a last-minute switch.”

Charles just looked into his eyes, blinking for a few seconds. 

“I know you’ve noticed that Shaw and look somewhat alike,” he said carefully, watching Charles’ face. 

Charles’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “You look nothing like him,” he protested. 

Erik smiled. “Below the neck, I mean.”

“Well,” Charles said, swallowing, “You do have similar--bodies. But your cock is bigger,” he added quickly, then blanched as he thought about what he’d just said. “Um. Sorry.”

“I’m just sorry you know that,” Erik said softly, kissing Charles again. “And yes, my cock is bigger.”

A manic giggle escaped Charles. “So--wait, did you say this is happening right now?” he was suddenly sober again, looking Erik in the eye anxiously. 

“Right now,” Erik said carefully, afraid that Charles was going to freak out any moment, “Sebastian Shaw is being brutalized by members of his entourage who think he is me.”

And this was the moment Erik had feared. He did not feel guilty about what he was putting Shaw through; he was afraid that Charles would judge him harshly for arranging to have Shaw raped. 

Charles put both of his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide. Erik waited to see what direction his response would take and he almost sagged with relief when Charles finally gasped, “But then why are you _here_? You didn’t want to watch?”

Erik choked on a laugh. “I would have enjoyed watching more than I’m comfortable telling most people,” he admitted to Charles. “But I needed to get back to you, to explain. And I didn’t think that you would want to watch.”

Charles hesitated and seemed torn. “Are they going to kill him?”

“No,” Erik said quickly. “The agreed-upon limits were no permanent damage and nothing requiring hospitalization. Logan and Victor are there to enforce the limits, too.”

“What if he says his safeword?” Charles whispered. “What if he can convince them he’s not you?”

Erik shook his head. “No safeword,” he said. “And he can’t talk, anyway. Do you remember that gag he had on you, when I got you from the Hellfire Club last weekend?”

Charles remembered, Erik saw it in his eyes, and in the way he set his jaw at that moment. “I hope they give him hell,” he whispered. 

Erik’s phone chimed with a text from Logan. _**There’s a few people here that are pretty freaked out: Peggy, Raven, Angel, Emma.**_

Erik cringed. He didn’t want any documentation that he had switched Shaw in for him, so he didn’t text them, but he resolved to call them all as soon as everything was over. And he realized - he did have friends. Why did he keep thinking that he didn’t?

“I need to be back there by 11,” Erik said, looking at his watch. “I had to send the cop on a bit of a wild goose chase because we’d already had Shaw stripped and unconscious when she showed up at the club, but I need to make sure he gets to the precinct tonight before she gets back from the Hamptons.”

Charles looked anxious. “Can’t Victor and Logan take care of that?”

Erik’s lips tightened and he felt a dark satisfaction. “I want to see him.”

**

Shaw was barely coherent when Victor and Logan dragged Shaw out of the back door of the Hellfire Club, to the disappointed catcalls of people who weren’t done with him yet. 

Erik was already parked in his secret spot. He heard Shaw before he saw him, broken sobs coming from his throat. 

Logan fixed Erik with a hard glare. “That was one of the most brutal things I ever witnessed, Erik. I don’t feel good about this. I hope he deserved it.”

“He raped me,” Erik said flatly. “I had technically consented, in writing, but he knew I didn’t want it and he did it anyway.” He looked at Shaw, still wearing the gimp mask. “And that was the least of it. He did - things too humiliating to say out loud. He knows - he knows there are some things I will never tell because of that. That’s how he works. Imagine the most disgusting thing someone could do to you - Shaw has probably done it to me.” 

Logan looked ill. “Shit, Erik, I wish you had told me earlier.”

Erik walked around Shaw, looking at him. He had a bloody nose, he was covered with bruises and burns and shallow cuts all over his front and back, but nothing that seemed permanent. His ass though--

Erik frowned. “Bend him forward?”

Logan and Victor did, although Shaw made a very scared sound. Probably thought he was going to be raped again, thought Erik, without sympathy. He snorted. “Don’t worry, there’s no way I would put my cock in you,” He said as he saw what looked like a curled stem of some kind, coming out of Shaw’s ass. Erik made a face and pulled it out and saw that it was attached to a whole jalapeno. He dropped it and Victor laughed. 

“I forgot about that,” he said. “Janos’s parting gift.”

A dribble of white fluid followed the jalapeno and Shaw made a raw sound. Shaw’s anus was puffy and red and gaping, but did not appear to be bleeding. 

“Okay,” Erik said standing. “Let’s take him to the police.”

They chloroformed him one more time in order to take off the mask and the gag and put him in the trenchcoat. He had a black eye - Erik assumed Azazel had made good on his threat. 

They left him just outside the police precinct with MacTaggert’s card in the pocket of the coat, carefully wiped on Erik’s prints.

It was midnight before they all arrived back at Charles’ house. Charles was anxiously pacing. “Everything go alright?”

Logan snorted. “Not for Shaw. I need a drink, could I impose?”

“Oh, of course,” Charles said, jumping up. He got beers for everyone. And they all sat down, Victor and Logan looking especially weary. 

“So...can you tell me what happened?” Charles asked, looking between all three men. “I mean, I know the generalities, but I’m curious as to how it all...went down.”

Logan looked at Erik and Erik nodded, holding Charles’ hand. 

“Well,” said Logan, looking at Victor, “First thing is, Janos says ‘he looks drugged.’ And Victor says - you remember what you said?”

Victor smiled. “I said, ‘you’d wanna be fucked up too if you were doing what Erik is doing.’”

Logan nodded. “So they accept that as an explanation, and everyone’s like, just standin’ around, and I realize they’re all waitin’ for Shaw. And then the guy starts to thrash around - he was on his knees, with his ankles tied together, and his hands tied above his head - the usual mush pot thing, you know.”

Erik was watching Charles carefully, but so far Charles didn’t seem surprised or upset. 

“An’ he’s tryin’ t’ say something, and Azazel and Janos look at each other and I say, ‘okay, guys, it’s 9:15. I’m takin’ him down at 11pm, so you can wait for Shaw or you can get started.’”

“And then Azazel said, ‘whatever’ and punched him in the face.”

Charles gasped, but his eyes were wide with Schadenfreude rather than horror. “What did Shaw do?”

“Well, he was definitely awake after that,” Victor said with a chuckle. “He started yelling, but nobody could understand him with that dentist thingy in his mouth. So Janos starts fucking his mouth and it was kind of funny because Shaw actually seemed surprised, like he didn’t know that was coming.”

Charles was looking a little less comfortable now. “He would have done that to you,” Erik whispered. 

“So then--” Logan hesitated. “This is--awkward. Can I just give you the highlights?”

Charles nodded, squeezing Erik’s hand tight. 

“So that funnel, Erik? Victor brought it in but it was, y’ know, sitting to the side. And Azazel notices it after a while and he says, ‘I know what to do with this’ and he puts it in Shaw’s mouth and he pisses in it.”

Charles made a strangled noise. Logan rushed ahead.

“Well, the funny part is, Shaw doesn’t swallow, of course, he, like, spits it all out, just projects it all over Azazel. And man, Azazel was _pissed off!_ ”

“And pissed on,” Erik added, trying not to laugh. Charles frowned at him but seemed to be trying not to laugh himself. 

Victor took up the narration. “Azazel punched him again, a couple times - we had to intervene, then, actually.”

“Oh, yeah, and we also had to intervene later - some guy was covering Shaw’s mouth and nose and I was counting and it was like 45 seconds and I said, ‘buddy, you’re getting close to brain damage.’ And he said, ‘I want him to pass out so he relaxes enough that we can shove a third dick in his ass’ and I told him two was plenty. I didn’t see how a third would fit in without tearing.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Charles said, looking a little green. “I think that I’ve heard enough. Um, thank you.”

Logan and Victor had finished their beers and stood to leave. Erik saw them to the door. “Thank you, again,” he said in a low voice. “Shaw had that coming. There’s nothing he experienced tonight that he hadn’t done to someone else. Including that bit with the jalapeno.”

Logan nodded grimly. “I’m beginning to gather how much he deserved it.”

“Man, Erik, honestly I wish I’d known this about Shaw years ago,” Victor said, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I don’t tell many people this, but...I own half of the Hellfire Club. Shaw was looking for an investor a couple years back and I bought in. I wasn’t visiting there on a regular until recently and I realized all the shitty things that go down there - we had a big falling out about it a couple weeks ago, actually, about how people are being unsafe and ignoring safewords and crap like that.”

“Well, if everything goes the way I’m hoping it will, Shaw will be in prison for years,” Erik said. “Maybe you can run the club - run it the way it should be run.”

“Hey, yeah,” Victor said slowly. “I’ll need help, but…”

“Angel can help you,” Erik said, realizing maybe she wouldn’t have to get a new job after all. “And I’m happy to as well.”

Victor grinned at him, showing his famous incisors. “I’ll be in touch.”

Just before they were completely gone, Erik called one more question to the two large men. “Wait - I just have to know...when did Shaw start crying?”

Logan and Victor looked at each other. “About an hour in,” Victor responded.

Erik was smiling when he walked back to Charles. He sat down next to him on the couch. “Are you alright?” he asked sincerely. “I’m sure that wasn’t all fun to hear.”

Charles looked Erik in the eye. “He deserved it, though, didn’t he?”

Erik nodded. “Yes, he did.” He kissed Charles. “I need to make some phone calls, okay? The only people who knew that wasn’t me were Victor and Logan, and apparently I have some people to reassure.”

Charles nodded and kissed him again. “Hurry back.”

Erik made his calls. It was hard because Angel and Raven were so upset by what they thought had happened to him that they were crying, and he had to counsel them not to shriek at him and give away his secret. Emma said she knew it wasn’t him (with a trembling voice) because she’d seen him naked enough to know. He couldn’t reach Peggy, but he trusted Raven would tell her. 

He went and sat down next to Charles with a second beer. “It’s done.”

Charles smiled at him, but there was still a crease in his brow. “Erik - I don’t mean to sound selfish, but...what about the videos of me?”

Erik took a sip of his beer. “I just asked Angel to wipe Shaw’s computer and all his files. That should take care of it.” He reached into his pocket. “I got you something.”

“You did?”

Erik nodded. “I had it made for you tonight - it was a bit of a leap of faith, because I didn’t know if you would forgive me.”

Charles’ face softened. “Of course I forgive you,” he said. “What I said earlier - I think we just need to work on - where the dominant and submissive behavior starts and stops.”

Erik nodded. “Exactly. So--” He pulled it out of his pocket then, the item he’d had specially made at the fetish shop for Charles earlier that day. It was a [black leather collar with a gold buckle](https://40.media.tumblr.com/bb1fcb5a24c07bccf5ee18c4a59b84e6/tumblr_nmve3yWQ8B1sb6kg7o1_540.jpg) bearing the words “Property of Erik Lehnsherr.”

Charles’ eyes got big, and Erik quickly continued. “I know you don’t want a twenty-four-seven dominant-submissive relationship, and I don’t want that either. I want someone I can love as an equal - but someone who will be submissive in the bedroom.”

Charles reached out to touch the collar, a soft smile on his face, stroking the leather. Erik continued. “I want this collar to...symbolize the difference. When you are wearing this, you are my sub, my...sex slave, or whatever term you prefer. When you are not wearing it, you are my partner, and I won’t presume that you want me to take care of things without talking to you about it first, as equals.”

A slow smile crept over Charles’ face as he looked down at the collar. He looked up into Erik’s face and but his lip shyly. “Okay,” he said softly. “I like that.”

“So the question is…” Erik said teasingly, tracing his fingers along Charles’ neck, “Do you want to wear it right now?”

“Yes, please,” Charles said with a sexy smile. He bowed his head and Erik put the collar around his neck - it was a perfect fit. That was actually lucky because he had guessed, the collar he’d had made for Magda that Charles had worn that one night a few weeks before as a starting point. 

“I like how you look in that,” Erik said, feeling a deep, thrumming satisfaction at how the black leather contrasted with Charles’ pale skin. 

Charles traced his fingers over the lettering. “Thank you for my collar, sir.”

Erik wound his hand into Charles’ hair. “How would you like to express your gratitude?”

Charles trembled with excitement. “May I suck your cock, sir?”

Erik nodded and inhaled with anticipation as Charles slipped to his knees. 

**

Moira MacTaggert was extremely annoyed to have to turn around and head back into Manhattan from the Hamptons when she got the call from dispatch at about 11:30pm that Shaw had been found dumped in front of the precinct - brutally raped, by all appearances.

Despite that, Shaw sullenly refused any a rape kit or any medical treatment except for painkillers. He claimed he’d been betrayed and raped but he refused to give any details about his supposed attackers. When bail was set, he chose to stay in jail instead of posting bail - even though he was wealthy. It was odd. 

Shaw was convicted of rape based on the testimony of Cain Marko and the video evidence that he did not stop when a safeword was given. He was sentenced to six years in prison. 

After Shaw was imprisoned, Cain Marko found himself so busy pursuing punitive damages in a civil case against Sebastian Shaw that he dropped the lawsuit against Brian Xavier’s estate, and the assets were finally signed over to Charles.

Erik ended up picking up almost all of Shaw’s clients after Shaw went to prison, and his schedule became so full that Emma started taking on some of the clients herself, so Erik hired Raven as a front-office assistant. 

Victor moved in with Logan and Anne-Marie. Erik and Charles were curious how that worked, but they never had the nerve to ask. 

Victor didn’t make a lot of changes in the Hellfire Club, but he did make few important ones. He banned Azazel and Janos, giving no other reason that “I don’t like the way they work.” The other major change he made is that he consulted with Erik to come up with a list of rules that he posted in the back of the club. The first thing on the list of rules, in large block letters, was the club-wide safeword: Wolverine. For some reason Logan blushed whenever discussions about the origin of that safeword happened. 

Angel got a phone call a few days after Shaw had been arrested from a timid young woman wanting to speak to Shaw who told Angel ‘tell him Slut is calling.’ Angel gently explained to her what had happened to Shaw and she never heard from the woman again.

Erik and Charles continued to have kinky sex. When Charles was wearing his collar, he was a perfect sub, and when he wasn’t they related to each other as equals...and talked about what they wanted to do the next time Charles was wearing his collar. It was only a few weeks before Charles was comfortable being blindfolded again, and as Erik promised, he did fuck Charles while he was wearing a gag - after making sure that Charles was holding a squeaky toy so that he had a non-verbal safeword. After a few months, Charles was enjoying everything he had enjoyed before the weekend with Shaw, and then some; he had decided that he enjoyed being called a slut, a whore, and even a bitch sometimes. Charles found himself doing and enjoying things in bed that he had never thought he would; but it was always his choice, Erik never anything forced upon him. Although sometimes they pretended that he did. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaw gets brutally raped. In order to make it a little more bearable, the actual rape happens sort-of off-screen, but the most brutal parts of it are briefly described by some of the characters. Erik essentially arranges it (but he doesn't rape Shaw personally) and is pleased about it, and Charles isn't completely comfortable but he's basically okay with it too. (Someone on tumblr thought I should add that as a content warning, so there ya go anon!)
> 
> [The collar described at the end](https://40.media.tumblr.com/bb1fcb5a24c07bccf5ee18c4a59b84e6/tumblr_nmve3yWQ8B1sb6kg7o1_540.jpg) (and on tumblr) is an actual collar handmade by the wonderful brodeurbunny30 of [Longbeard Leathers](https://www.etsy.com/shop/LongbeardLeathers)!!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover art for "Sweet Torture"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3790765) by [avictoriangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avictoriangirl/pseuds/avictoriangirl)




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